Midnight Serenade
by ImYourIdiot
Summary: ExC. What if Christine and Erik knew each other in their younger years, and there was no Raoul around to interfere, but instead, Meg wass? What would their future be like?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters in this story, unfortunately. They belong to Sir Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and Joel Schumacher.

A little bit of information for a better understanding of my fic; I am aware that Erik is quite a number older than Christine, however, he is only five years older than her in this story, but he is the only one whose age I... "tampered" with. Despite Erik's "youngness", Madame Giry is still erm... old. Also, when Erik is around, it's in his POV, but when he leaves or he's just not there, it's not. I hope that doesn't get confusing. If it does, you can leave me a review about it. Also, Christine's father dies when she's a preteen, not when she's like, seven years old.

_**Midnight Serenade**_

**Chapter 1**

I walked on the stone pathway in the empty cemetary, quietly, reading the epitaphs through the mask that I wore to cover the hellish deformity upon my face. The beautiful words engraved on the tombstones, the monumental carvings of angels and crosses always inspired me to write music. Although my music is often dark and depressing, I find it beautiful the way it is. But I laid my eyes on another beauty. A young girl with brown curls, and she seemed to be staring at a grave. I decided to watch her and see what she was up to, hoping to find some inspiration for my music. The little girl was kneeling on the ground and brown eyes were sparkling in whatever sunlight was penetrating through the grey clouds. I noticed tears run down her pale cheeks and I listened to her, very intently, crouching behind a tombstone. I felt my pain in my chest, watching her cry, listening to her weep... And shockingly, I thought to myself, 'I wish I could help.' She said, "Father, it has been only a few days since your death, but I cannot bear it. I do not know how to live... I'm frightened now that I have nobody..." She spoke softly, but her words were so clear, even through her sobs. Her little hand reached into a bag beside her, shakily and out came a knife. "If this is the only way that I can be with you again, so be it..." I realised now what she was going to do. The petite beauty; she was going to kill herself! I rise from my hiding spot and run over to her and kick the knife out of her grasp. "What do you think you are doing?" I hollered, without thinking first. But what was I to do? I wasn't given enough time to think anything over. "Don't be a fool and kill yourself."

"What was that? Who are you" She said, harshly. She then looked over to me, "Were you watching me?"

"Well, I found it very difficult to ignore you."

She gave me a confused look and I felt my face grow warm. I sighed, annoyed at that stupid look she gave me, "I mean that scene you were making... just because your father is dead, does not mean you should be as well."

"Why do you worry about me? You do not even know me!" She yelled, standing, attempting to reach my eye level. However, she was still much shorter than I.

"I'm sure that nobody would like your dirty blood on their graves."

The girl's face was turning red in anger and I smirked at myself, victoriously and she spat at me"Oh, just leave me be! You're just trying to scare people off with that foul mask! But I know you're just a silly boy, and you cannot frighten me" She reached for my mask but I easily moved out of the way.

'How unladylike of her.' I thought, keeping that smirk on my face. "You will be deathly afraid if you dare touch my mask."

"Well, I will not be tempted, if we do not see each other ever again. Now, if you excuse me, I am going to go see Papa again."

"You're not, are you? You're not going to kill yourself! I know it's difficult without parents... I feel the same way, but..."

"No, I am not going to kill myself. But Papa said he would send me the Angel of Music when he gets to Heaven, and I am sure I will see Papa in this Angel, as well." She paused and looked like she was thinking something over. "Just a moment!" She said at last. I raised a brow, questioningly, but I doubt she saw it. "You said you know the feeling I am experiencing! So you do not have any family either!"

"I suppose not."

"Then we can be each other's family!" She gave me a large smile.

I hesitated to speak, but managed, "Um... well, I have another idea. But..." I grabbed her hand and put it to my chest. "You are going to trust me, child." She nodded after a little while. She seemed willing to trust anybody.

Madame Giry was on stage when I arrived at the Opera House. She was teaching the young balletdancers as she usually does, since it's her job. I learned on the way over that the girl with the brown curls and sparkling eyes was 12-year-old Christine Daae. I crept into the shadows with little Christine. I pulled Madame Giry over to the dark part of the stage where I concealed myself. "Madame Giry..." I began. "I have a request to make."

"Yes, anything. What is this request, my boy?"

I twitched at the sound of that. 'My boy.' Of course, as a 17-year-old, not yet a "real" adult, and she being the older woman that she is, she sees herself as my mother... and I suppose I see her as that, as well. I sighed"Well..." I looked over at Christine, who was just dragged by little Meg Giry, over to the middle of the stage, where Meg tried to show Christine one of her dances. I smiled and continued"I found something interesting at the cemetary today."

"And may I ask what it is, Erik?"

"You know very well what it is, Madame Giry. I brought a girl, whose name is Christine Daae, here to the Opera House. I trust you can mother her as though she is your daughter."

"Of course, dear. And was that name, Daae? She will fit in nicely at the Opera House. Her father was a famous violinist." Madame Giry looked beyond her shoulder and saw that Christine dancing with Meg. Although Christine wasn't doing exactly as Meg, she was close... and she was graceful. "And she has already become friendly with my Meg. Do not worry, Erik, she will be fine."

"I do not doubt you at all, Madame Giry." I looked again at the little girls. They were running over so I found it was my time to leave. "I shall be off, Madame." She nodded and turned to the two girls as they approached her and I crept away in the shadows.

"Mama! Christine is an angel on her feet! You must let her be a part of the ballet!"

"Perhaps you both will be a part of it, soon. But first, you need training, before you can dance in an opera."

Shyly, Christine spoke, "So, this is..."

Madame Giry knew exactly what she was saying. "Yes, this is the Paris Opera House."

That night, all the little ballet dancers gathered in their room, to ready themselves for bed. Meg introduced Christine to them, though it was awkward for her. While the other girls were wound up in their own conversations or games, Christine was sitting on her bed, staring at the wall. Meg plopped down beside her. "Christine? Is there something the matter?"  
"It's a bit awkward here... I've never been in a place such as this, with people such as you." Christine quickly realized what she said and gasped, "I'm sorry!None of you arestrange... maybe I'm the strange one."

Meg giggled at her new friend, "Oh, Christine. You will get used to it."

"Do you promise?"  
"Yes, yes... I promise."

"Well, then, in that case, I have another question to ask of you, Meg."

Meg shrugged. "Okay, what?"

"Where does the boy with the mask live in the Opera House?"

Meg smiled, "Boy with a mask? Oh, Christine, surely you jest! There is no boy with a mask"

"There is a boy with a mask, here! I am certain!"

"Well, I do know this... there have been many incidents here at the Paris Opera House." The room became silent. "Some think it may be a person's mischievious pranks, but I know who it is! I heard from Joseph Buquet, and I_heard_ him for myself!"

The room echoed with the questions, "Who","Who is 'him'","What do you know?"

"The Opera Ghost! I heard he's a young boy and he wanders around the Opera House, like this place is his playground! Nobody has ever seen his face before."

Christine moaned. " 'Opera Ghost'? Now, you are the one who jests!"

"But he is real!" Meg argued. "He wrecks havoc when there are people about. But when it is quiet at night, he plays his beautiful music..."

Christine rolled her eyes. "Okay, Meg. Believe whatever you would like."

"Okay, I will." Meg sighed. "I do wish that I could meet this Opera Ghost. I have heard his music. At times, he plays a violin somewhere here in the Opera House and I hear it. The songs he plays... they sound so lovely, but sad... lonely. I bet all O.G. wants is a friend!"

A voice from the group of ballet girls called"Oh, Meg! Now you've given Monsieur Opera Ghost a nickname!"

Christine lied in her bed, staring out the window at the large, white moon that glistened outside. She hasn't been able to sleep for a few nights, because when things became quiet, she just thought to herself. And since her father recently died, all that was in her mind was the memories of her father. She cried, silently and her tears wet her pillow. She saw a shooting star in the sky and she was about to wish on it, but she knew that her only wish was to see her father again, but she knew that was impossible. But then she remembered the boy in the mask. 'I want to see him again. He was nice to me...' She thought. She closed her eyes and folded her hands and said in her mind, 'I wish the boy with the mask was here.' After a few minutes, she smiled, hoping that her wish would come true by the next morning. She was about ready to fall asleep when she heard music on a violin. She knew it was not her father, because she didn't wish for it. '_The songs he plays... they sound so lovely, but sad... lonely_." She remembered that Meg had said this about her Opera Ghost, and the description she gave matched the song that Christine was listening to. She rose and stepped onto the wooden floor and tiptoed out of the room. She was going to look for the violinist.

I stood on the roof of the Opera House, peering out into the city of Paris. The moon shone brightly, and I could see the buildings vividly even though lamps were not lit. I played the violin here as I did many other nights as people slept soundly in their beds. I listened to the music I played and felt somewhat possessed, as I began to sing words, mindlessly, to a song that I wrote without any. At that moment, I felt something touch my arm and I heard a beautiful voice. My eyes widened in surprise; there was somebody beside me, and she sang in such a pretty voice. It was getting a few of my words wrong and it was not in tune with my violin but nevertheless, I enjoyed listening. But I stopped playing anyway, to take a look to see who was standing right next to me. Christine.

"Christine! You should be in bed! Why did you climb to the roof? Why are you even awake"

She smiled at me, innocently."Why do you ask so many questions?"

"Do not mind that, just go," I growled angrily. I did not want to be seen, even though Christine has already.

"You get so angry. I did nothing wrong, did I, Opera Ghost?"

I could not believe what I was hearing. The voice that had earlier made me feel soothed, was now making me angry. "What did you just call me..?"  
Christine just smiled up at me. "Is that not what they call you?"

"Don't be absurd! You unsettle my temper!" I hollered at her, harshly.

"You are the one whom is unsettling! You demon!"

At those two words I forgot of Christine's weeping at her father's grave and the pity I felt. I forgot all about her singing to my music and knocked the girl over with a shove. "Demon, am I? I took you to the Opera House, did I not?"

I glared down at her, as she sit helplessly, as she began to cry. I had not physically hurt her too badly, but she did have a scratch on the arm she fell on. It bled through her nightclothes and I smacked myself inwardly. On the outside, I grabbed her by the wrist and attempted to pull her up as gently as I could, so that I would not hurt her again, and she stood, her head looking down and she sniffled, "I am sorry... I was not thinking."

"No. I was the one who did not think. Arguing with a _child_... I'm..." I never liked doing this, because honestly, I never have. "I... I apologise."

"It's okay. I just wanted to hear you play your violin... and when you sang with the song you were playing, I thought maybe you were the Angel of Music father had promised."

Of all the things I have ever heard her say, that was the most absurd. However, I felt... perhaps, happiness. But I couldn't be anybody's angel. I knew she was (and still is) feeling upset about her father's death. And since she heard me play the violin tonight, I must remind her of her father. As she said before, '_I am sure I will see Papa in this Angel_" and she sees him in my violin and me.

...She's a stupid little girl.

(A/N: Okay, so Erik isn't in love with Christine yet. He just sees her as a helpless kid that's why he's so nice to her... sometimes.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Christine returned to her bed and fell asleep at around one o'clock in the morning, clutching her arm which was dressed by the boy in the mask. The sun began to rise and it lit the dark room. Some of the little ballet girls awoke, but Christine lay still, tired from not sleeping for too long. Meg gave her a tap and Christine's eyes opened slowly. "What..." She asked Meg, tiredly. "Wake up, Christine. It's already 8 o'clock."

"So?"

Meg shook her head. "Oh, Christine, you just can't sleep all day. Are you always like this in the morning?"

"No. But I was up very late last night."

"Why?"

Christine sat up and the blanket which concealed the wound on her arm slid off and Meg noticed it. "I heard that music you were talking about... and I saw _him_ again."

"Who are you talking about, Christine? And your arm, what happened?"

Christine climbed out of bed and looked at her bandaged arm, sadly, "Nothing." Christine walked away from Meg and went to get dressed for the day and Meg sat herself down on Christine's bed."She was with the Opera Ghost last night."

"Mama, you know the Opera Ghost, yes?" Meg asked her mother.

" 'Opera Ghost'? I suppose... Why do you ask?" Madame Giry questioned.  
"I think Christine was with him last night."

"What makes you think that?"  
"She said she heard music and saw a boy with a mask. Is this masked boy the Opera Ghost"  
"Well..."

"Please, tell me! Monsieur O.G. hurt her! You did see the bandage around her arm?"

Madame Giry scolded, "Meg! You are being foolish! Surely Christine hit her arm on something! What would your Opera Ghost like with her?"

Meg grunted in defeat and stormed away when she bumped into Christine. "Something bothering you, Meg" Christine questioned, following her friend as she stomped about. "Tell me, you were with the Opera Ghost last night?"

"Do not say that! He is not a ghost! Ghosts frighten people!"

"So you say that the one that hurt you does not frighten you?"  
"I am sure he did not mean for that to happen... but I want to hear his music again. When he plays his violin, he reminds me of Papa, and it makes me happy."

"Does _he_ make you happy?"

"Well, he is my Angel of Music... even though he told me that he is not an angel of anything or for anyone."

"Well, nonetheless, you should not see this 'Angel of Music'! I will not let you get hurt again!"

"I will not be hurt again! I promise that he will never ever again!"

Meg did not know why the Opera Ghost mattered so much to her. He obviously meant something to her, if she had yelled at Christine, and they just met. Thinking about it all just bothered her. Also, she always wanted to find out more about him. She often said that she did not like him but she felt that she was lying to herself; just like Christine, Meg yearned to hear his music. With a ballet instructor as a mother, she heard all kinds of songs and to each, she could do her own dance. Meg was truly gifted with poise and rhythm even as a child. Some nights, Meg would listen to the music that Monsieur O.G. played and despite it's the feeling of darkness and recluse, she wanted to dance... with him. Meg knew that he wanted a friend and she wanted to be the one to befriend him.

She knew this so very well, but she still questioned...

"Why, oh why?"

(A/N: Not a very exciting chapter.. I apologise. Chapter 3 is much better, I promise.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"How is your arm feeling today, Christine?" Christine was on the roof of the Opera House to listen to me play my violin again. I asked her how the scratch that I was responsible for, is feeling through the kindest smile I could possibly show. "I am fine. My arm is, as well." She said underneath her breath. I could not see her eyes beneath the brown curls that covered her face. I pushed them out of the way and lifted her chin so that her eyes would look directly into mine. "You do not seem fine," I pointed out, "You are quieter than you usually are."

"How would you know how I usually am if you had only known me a few days?"

"Well then, I suppose you are not quieter than usually, but I still think there is something wrong."

"It seems to me that Meg does not like you very much." She admitted.

"Meg? I know not a Meg."

"She doesn't like you because you hurt me and she's my only friend here at the Opera House, so..."

I reached down and pulled my violin out of its case and began to play"She is not your only friend here. I shall be your friend if you desire it."

"You will?"  
"Of course."

"Well, friends should know each other's names... you know mine, now what is yours"

Sighing, I answered, "My name is Erik..."

She smiled at me and I stopped playing for a moment to stare at that teethy grin she was giving me. "You stopped! You promised that you would play the violin for me every day at midnight, did you not?" She exclaimed

I recalled the other night. I had let my temper take over and I had pushed Christine over and she got a scratch on her arm. When I realised what I had done, I helped Christine up, apologising. I expected for her to run back inside, crying, but instead she surprised me by saying, "_It's okay. I just wanted to hear you play your violin... and when you sang with the song you were playing, I thought maybe you were the Angel of Music father had promised_."

"Surely you cannot see me as an angel" I said, stroking the wound on Christine's shoulder. "There is not an angel who would do something such as I did a few moments ago."

Christine sniffled"So I am not going to hear you play music anymore?"

I could not say 'no' to her. Her voice sounded helpless and disappointed. "...Well, I may not be the Angel of Music, but... I promise... I shall play for you or sing for you every midnight."

Her face lit up and I was happy that I had made her smile. At the same time, I frowned, remembering my temper. It could get quite violent at times... but I felt responsible for Christine from the moment I saw her. That's why I kicked that knife out of her hand and that's why I made that promise...

"Yes, I suppose I did make that promise. But now, Christine, it is only fair for you to do something for me in return." She frowned but I continued"You do not have to pay a price or anything. Please, promise me you keep our meetings here on the roof a secret. You shall not speak my name to anybody besides yourself and I."

"Why?"  
"Please... do it for me. For Erik..." I began to play the violin for her again and she nodded, her eyes on the grounds as she went over to me and embraced me. She spoke, softly, "I promise, Erik... I will never break this promise..." When those words left her lips, I felt my chest pound. Nobody has ever spoken to me with such kindness or gentleness in their voice. "Christine..." I said, putting my violin down. She looked up at me and I grabbed her shoulders, dropping the violin, and bent over. My body slipped out of her embrace. But now, my lips were on hers and I _felt_ her wide eyes, staring at me in shock. I pulled away and quickly collected my violin. Looking at the Christine who was still startled, I searched for something to say, but choked. I simply apologised"I am so sorry, Christine" I looked at her one last time and I hurried away.

Christine was petrified, she could not move her legs. They felt like they were one-thousand pounds each, so she collapsed on her knees, her hand over her mouth. She did not know what was the matter with her but she felt she had to tell somebody about what had just happened, so she picked herself up and she ran, despite how heavy she thought her legs were. Her hands never left her face as she ran to Meg's bed. She kept one hand over her mouth and the other was tapping Meg. She spoke through her fingers, "Meg! Please, get up" Meg growled, rubbing her eyes and she looked at Christine with tired eyes. Pestered, she angrily mumbled"What is it"

Christine dropped her hands off her mouth and grabbed Meg's and sobbed"Oh, Meg! Oh, Meg"

Meg was now wide-awake. "Why are you crying?" Meg spoke as loudly as she could in a room with sleeping ballerinas. "He... he..."

"He? Who?"

'_I promise, Erik... I will never break this promise..._" Christine remembered what she had told Erik earlier and she knew that she did not want to betray his trust, so she just went silent. Meg continued to question her and finally, Christine said, hanging her head "I cannot tell you."  
Meg was clearly angered by this. "Then why did you wake me, with tears in your eyes?"

"I am sorry... I am just so confused."

"Tell me why."

"Come off it, Meg, I cannot tell you."

"Christine, you promised you would not be hurt by him again!"

Christine let out a gasp and Meg continued, "You said you would not let Monsieur O.G. hurt you again. If he is the reason for your tears, then he hurt you!"

"No, Meg! He kissed me!"

Christine quickly her mouth, 'I promised him I would not tell anybody of our meetings on the roof.' Meg looked at Christine, surprised, "He... kissed you?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Christine glanced away and stared at the wall. She did not want to look at the face Meg was making. "Christine, you promised you would not let him hurt you again!"

Christine nodded"Yes, but he did not hurt me!"

"So you are shedding tears of joy?"

Christine hesitated. "Well, I suppose not."

"Christine, you promised me..."

"I am sorry, Meg." Christine pleaded. "Do not be angry."

'I am not angry, just disappointed.' Meg said in her mind. 'But I cannot tell her that.' Meg just lied back down in her bed and turned away from Christine.

"Meg!" Christine exclaimed. "Meg?"

"Whatever, do as you like." Meg said, coldly.

Christine sighed and climbed into bed. 'Now I only have one friend here at the Opera House...' Christine thought for a moment, and realised something else, 'Oh... I broke the promise I made to Erik, as well." Remembering this, Christine's eyes drowned in tears before she finally drifted to sleep.

Christine had awoke and her face was still drenched from crying all night. She wiped her eyes with her arm and looked around, and found that all the beds were empty. Christine glanced at the clock which read 10 o'clock. 'All the other ballet girls left to practise. Meg did not wake me this time..." Christine frowned as she got out of bed to ready for the day.

Christine stepped onto the large stage where the young ballerinas practised for now. She walked over to the other ballet girls who were giggling because of Christine's tardiness until Madame Giry yelled"Miss Daae" Christine froze in her spot and glanced over at Madame Giry"Yes..." Christine said. "Please come here" Madame Giry commanded. Christine gulped and did so. Christine blushed as all the girls watched her walk over to Madame Giry in shame. She could hear their giggles and a few of their comments. "Look at her face""She's so red" were a some of the things they said. Christine looked at some of them as she walked from the corner of her eyes and she could see Meg. Meg was staring at the floor, shaking her head. Christine was felt somewhat glad that Meg was not ridiculing Christine as well. When Christine approached Madame Giry, she looked up at her. "Yes, Madame?"

Madame Giry stomped on the ground. "Do not 'yes, Madame' me, Miss Daae! You were to be here at 9:30! You are almost fourty-five minutes late!"

"I apologize for my having been tardy..." She said quietly.

"What was that?"

"I apologise for being so late." Christine spoke up clearer and Madame Giry gave her a smack upon the head and hollered, "You cannot be _late_! You can never be late! Now, I would like you to do extra stretches after all the girls have left! Now, do not let it happen again!"

Christine nodded, looking a bit teary-eyed. "Okay..."

"Oh, Christine, Christine... you silly, little child..." I muttered, hiding behind the curtains where I watched her from there. I hate to admit that I chuckled myself as she walked over to Madame Giry for her punishment. However, she did look like she may have cried a little. Poor thing. I watched the entire thing, which ended when the older ballet dancers had to practise. Madame Giry ordered Christine to step out of the way to do the extra stretches. She stepped in front of my hiding spot and was about to begin to stretch when I revealed myself. "Hello, my dear." I said, calmly. "Eri-" She began. I interrupted her by putting one hand over her mouth and the other, grabbing her hand as I shushed her. I pulled her into my spot behind the curtain and whispered, "Do not speak my name." I commanded her.

"Sorry, I was not expecting you to see you now."

"I wander around the Opera House every day. Get used to it." I said, simply.

"Okay... but why do you hide? There is no reason to hide." She said, looking glancing around. She was pushed up against me because I pulled her so close to me. She then looked up at my face and her cheeks turned a pink shade, then she turned away. "Does something trouble you, Christine?" I asked. It was obvious that she was bothered and it was obvious what she was bothered by. I sighed, remembering the night before. "Christine," I repeated. "Is there something the matter?"

Looking down, Christine said in a hushed voice, "Yes, there is... I am sure you know what it is."

"Enlighten me." I tried to speak sarcastically. I wanted to make it seem like I had forgotten about the night before.

"Erik, don't be a fool! Why did... you kiss me last night..." Her eyes were still glued to the floor, but I could tell that she was turning redder. She was embarrassed... or ashamed.

I did not know how to respond, or what to do. "There was no reason" was all I could say. "Erik, please..." She lifted her head and her eyes looked into mine. She stared at me, pleadingly. "Tell me... why?"

"I said there was no reason." I shouted. The ballet dancers turned and looked. Madame Giry approached so I quickly grabbed Christine and dashed away. "Christine Daae, are you doing your stretches?" Madame Giry searched the area with her eyes, "Christine Daae!"

"Erik! What are you doing?" I ran through the Opera House, hiding in the shadows with Christine in my arms. Her voice was muffled because I kept a hand over her mouth. I pushed a door open and quickly shut it behind me, locking it. One wall was just a large mirror and the rest of the room was furnished luxuriously. I put Christine down and let her stand on her feet and I grabbed my head, wiping a drop of sweat that was rolling down my forehead. "I apologise, Christine..."

"Why did you take me here? How come you ran like that? Are we allowed in this room? What will Madame Giry say about my leaving?"

"Christine, please, stop asking so many questions. Nobody stays in this room as of now and Madame Giry will not be angry about you not stretching, I promise."  
"I am sorry for asking so many questions... but if I may, I have another question and it is the only question I absolutely want you to answer me, Erik."

Christine put her hands on her face, which was already beginning to turn to pink. She turned her back to me and attempted to ask me the question. "Why... why did you..."

'I said it once, but I can't say it again!' Christine scolded herself in her mind. "Why did you kiss me, Erik?" She turned back around to face me...

But I did not want to face her, so I left the room a different way then we came. She gathered all her courage to ask that question, just to yell it at a wall.

Christine fell onto her knees and cried, "I just want to know the reason, Erik..."

(A/N: Ehh... I tried my best... I hope it's okay.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Christine dragged herself into the dorm andthrew herself on her bed, her face in the pillow. Meg was sitting on hers, brushing through her long,golden blonde hair. "Where have you been?" She asked Christine.  
Christine didn't look over at her. She spoke through the pillow, "You're talking to me?"

"I suppose. It isn't fair for me to stop talking to you. It's not your fault he kissed you."

Christine blushed at the mention of the kiss. "Yes, but I am trying to find the reason for why he did so."

Meg spoke and there was a hint of sadness in her voice, "Is it not that a boy kisses a girl that he admires?"

Christine did not notice the grief in Meg'stone so she continued to talk, "Oh, no. Erik cannot admire me. I am sure it was an accident."

"How can a person accidentally kiss somebody?"

"Um, they fall on top of the person?"

"So that's what happened."

"No."

Meg hung her head, letting go of her brush.She grabbed her chest and tugged at her shirt, clutching her teeth. She felt her heart ache knowing that Erik kissed Christine intentionally. She felt extremely devastated at the thought; Meg had been at the Opera House for all her life but Christine, she had only been there a few days. It also made Meg angry, and what made her angrier was that Christine was trying to make it seem humourous. She acted as though she were an unsophisticated naivete and this bothered Meg.

But Meg couldn't be annoyed by it; Christine is her friend.

Christine has been seeing me on the roof of the Opera House for weeks now. I thought about discontinuing my violin-playing on the roof for her, but I did not want to break a promise, she said she would never break the one she made to me. I assumed that she was going to ask me _that_ question again, but surprisingly, she avoided it. It also seemed like she was trying to dodge me, as though she did not want to be there. One day, I brought it up"Christine, is my violin boring you?"

"No." She uttered in such simplicity.

"But you do not seem as excited as you were before."

"I apologise, Erik."

She never tells me anything. I could tell there was something the matter, but she would never confess. I suppose it is time to pry. "Christine, tell me what is wrong."

"Nothing is wrong."

"You always claim there is nothing wrong but I can tell. Very well. You cannot lie to me. We need not hide from each other."

"'You cannot lie to me'? Actually, in a sense, I have been."

My ears were deceiving me; I knew it. "No, no, you haven't. . . you jest."

"As you said, we needn't hide from each other. So, I will tell you the truth."

"'Truth'?"

She gulped and said, couragerously, "Yes! Thetruth!" A sigh escaped her mouth."I. . . broke the promise I made to you. .. are you angry?"

Istood, stupefieduntil finally I found something to say. "What do you think?" I growled, coldly. Not exactly the wisest choice of words.

I threw my violin in its case and slammed it. "Well, if you broke the promise, then I shall be off. Why should I keep mine if you could not keep yours?" I walked away, when I could have easily slipped away, leaving Christine there but something in me wanted her to stop me, as though I could not stop myself. As expected Christine called to me and I froze. "Erik, please, do not do this to me!"

"What have I done?"

"Erik, please..." Christine approached me and put a hand on my arm and squeezed my sleeve. I looked down at her, her eyes glistened in the moonlight as tears began to form in her eyes. She was about to cry _again_. I could not allow that to happen so I sighed in defeat. "Okay. . ."

She smiled, letting go of me to wipe her eyes. I rolled mine at her but she did not realise it. "Anyway. .. if you did not want me to go, then there's something you want of me, yes?"

"Would you play the violin?"

"You have not gotten bored of it yet?"

She shook her head quickly, "Of course not! Especially since you play so marvelously."

"Okay, I will play for you." I pulled out my violin and Christine stared at me, curiously. "What is it?"

Christine's eyes remained fixed on my face. "Erik, earlier, did you not say we should not hide anything from each other?"

I did not like what she was saying and I knew where she was getting at. "Christine, I will not take off my mask!"

"Then I will!" Stubbornly, Christine reached forward to snatch the mask away but I automatically grabbed her arm. "Do noteven try!" I roared, twisting her wrist around. Christine shrieked and tried to shake free of my tight grasp, "Oww! Erik, you are hurting me!"

I felt like I turned into different person when Christine reached for my mask. How dare she even try to take my mask. . . invade my privacy? But when I felt something_snap_ in my hand, I quickly realised what happened; I just broke Christine's hand. I let go of her and she crouched down on the ground, holding her injured hand in her other one. She trembled, she was in pain. . . and it seemed she was afraid of me. "Christine, I am so very sorry! May I see it?"

She shook her head.

"You do not want me to take a look?"

She shook her head again. "I will be fine. . ."

"I am sorry, I promise I will never let this happen again." I was about to run off, I did not care if I left my violin behind, but before I dashed away, I heard Christine whisper to herself"Meg will never allow me to see you again if she finds out about this. . . I suppose I will not tell her."

"No, Christine. . . allow me to bandage it. Let her see."

"But _I_ want to see you again. . . and hear you play for me again. . . if Meg knows about this, she would probably do all she could to keep me from going back. This _is_ the third time already." Christine got up and walked slowly away. "Christine. . ." I said softly.

"Do not worry. I will be fine."

And with that, she retreated to her room, abandoning me on the roof, where I stared after her, with a tear in my eye. . .


	6. Chapter 6

(A/N: I apologise for taking so long, but I have been busy. I promise. I'll try to write more and add another chapter this week... but I cannot guarantee anything.)

**Chapter 6**

"Christine, I found something very strange!" Christine had been sitting on her bed in the dorm, silently reading a book. Meg had rushed into the room, excitedly. "Where have you been, Meg?" Christine asked, turning a page, without moving her eyes away from the book. "I was just wandering about, waiting until our next ballet practise."

Christine grunted in acknowledgement, clearly engrossed in her reading. Meg crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "Christine, you do not even want to know what I have found?"

"Go on and tell me, I'm listening."

Meg snatched the book away, "Christine!"  
"Meg! Give me my book!"

Meg took Christine's hand and said, "But you must come with me first!" She had grabbed the broken hand and Christine winced in pain but did not want to let Meg know about her hand, so she remained silent. "Okay."

After climbing the many stairs Christine usually did to visit Erik, the two girls finally reached their destination; the roof. Christine yanked her hand out of Meg's and tried to soothe the pain by massaging it with her other hand. "You were on the roof?" Christine questioned Meg.

With a grin, Meg nodded. "Paris always looks much prettier from above."

"I suppose."

"But this is not what I came to show you," Meg said, 'After all, I am sure she has seen it many times before.' Meg bent down and picked something up, showing Christine. "Look! Do you know what this is?" Meg said, bouncing in excitement.

Christine's eyes widened in shock, but answered rather calmly, "A violin." It was Erik's violin. Knowing Meg, she would bring something up about the Opera Ghost and that would cause a conflict; Christine was sure.

"It must be Monsieur O.G.'s. He plays his violin on the roof!"

'Here it comes...' Christine thought. She knew she should not lie, but she could not say that it really was Erik's."That's absurd. You say you heard his music, did you not? If he played his violin all the way up here, how could you have heard it?" Christine attempted not to reveal Erik's secret _again_.

"Our dorm is not _that _far from the roof. I also have very good hearing."

Christine shook her head, sighing. "I still do not believe that it could be Erik's."

Meg gasped. "'Erik', you say? So that is his name! I always known you and he were close! You do visit _Erik_ here on this roof!"

"Wha..? I... never! What makes you think that? I would... no... I... why...?" Christine could not find anything to say and began to panic.She was blathering away, speaking nonsense..Meg put her hands on Christine's shoulders, staring into her eyes, intently. "Christine, tell me the truth, do you love Erik?"

Christine's face turned warm and she glanced away, without having to turn her head. "Meg..! What kind of question is that? Of course not!"

Meg smiled, heaving a sigh of relief. "Then you will not be offended if I say that I love Erik?"

Silence. Christine's heart throbbed painfully and she did not believe what she hadjust heard. She spoke quietly,"But... you cannot."

Meg looked confused. "Why?"

"You have not even met him. You do not love him, you don't know who he is!"

Meg frowned and let go of Christine. "Are you upset? ...You sound like it."

Christine shook her head. "I apologise. No, I am not upset, I am not offended." Christine excused herself, walking towards the stairs, "Now, I shall be heading back. I would like to read more before practise."

-

It was about time for Christine and Meg to practise. Meg watched all the other girls leave the dorm for their lesson and Christine offered to wait for Meg, however, Meg refused, "No, it is alright. You needn't be late again, I shall be there soon."

Christine shrugged her shoulders and left Meg in the room by herself. Meg picked up the novel Christine was so into. It was lying on Christine's bed, which was fixed to perfection. The sheets were flawless and without wrinkles. 'Christine would probably like to read this before she goes to bed tonight.'

Meg hated to be plotting against Christine, her best friend. Nonetheless, Meg slid the book underneath a bed, into a dark corner of a room. Just in case Christine would look underneath that bed, Meg also wrapped it in a blanket, so it did not look like it. She did not want Christine to find it; Meg had something planned for that night and she did not want Christine to be in the way.

Later that evening, when all the little ballerinas were in their nightclothes, everything went as Meg had expected. "Meg, did you see it?" Christine was frantically searching through the room for her book. "I haven't. Sorry... but Christine, you have been searching for an hour now. You are keeping everybody up with your nonsense," Meg giggled. Christine sighed, "I am sorry everyone... I am sure I will find it."

"It's a book, Christine. Please, it is getting late." Meg slipped underneath the covers, yawning. "Perhaps in the morning you will find it."

Christine fell on top of her bed, exhausted. "Maybe. I am too tired to read anyway." After a few minutes, Meg heard soft snores come from Christine. Meg smiled and faced the clock. It was midnight. Meg could hear a violin, faintly and she followed it, quietly tiptoeing out of the dorm. 'At last, Monsieur O.G., I can finally _have_ you to myself, without Christine's interruptions.' She reached for the doorknob and pushed the door open, walking outside of the room. She shut it quietly behind her and hurried up to the roof, as quietly as she could.

-

I waited for Christine's arrival, as I usually did, by playing the violin. I usually looked down on Paris and all its glory, however, the music that came from my violin tonight... I played with such concentration, so focused... I was totally consumed by its beauty. I heard steps walking towards me, in near-silence. I grinned, "I am glad you are here, Christine. How is your hand? What do you think of-" I was suddenly silenced when I felt two hands lay themselves gently on my chest. Then a head against my body and a sigh was heard. Could it be Christine's lovely hands upon me? Her head leaning up against me? I felt myself blush.

I opened my eyes and looked at her. I saw the top of her head and it was not covered with the light brown curls. Her hair was blonde, _who was she?_ I shoved her away and quickly went to withdraw back to my lair. She must have realised this, as she shouted, "Please, Erik, do not go just yet!"

I lingered, even though I knew it would cause some sort of problem. "You know my name?"

The blonde girl approached me again, and I stepped back every time she took a step closer. "Yes, I do. And I am sure you know who I am," She said.

I thought a moment, tapping my chin with my thumb. "No... I cannot say that I do."

"But you must! You do know Madame Giry, yes?"

"Yes."

"I am her daughter, Meg Giry! Surely, you do know me!"

"No." I was speaking truthfully... almost. I have heard a bit about Meg and I have seen her, but I could not say that I knew her personally. I was about to be on my way, then Meg began to sniffle. "How could you? I have always been here at the Opera House, and I am the daughter of Madame Giry. You do not know me, and yet you know Christine so well? She has not been here as long as I!"

I smirked, "It does not matter who has been here longer, but who is closer in my heart. Wherever that is."

Meg's sniffles turned to sobs, "So, you love Christine?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

I grunted, annoyed and answered after a moment of silence. "Yes. I do love Christine," He said. Meg angrily crossed her arms over, pouting, "You do not think that is wrong at all?"

"Why is it wrong?"

"How old are you?"

"Why does age matter? You are the same age as Christine, right?"

"Yes, but Erik," She whined.

"Please, I would like you to leave. I am waiting for Christine. And another thing, if anybody finds out about this, I will find out and you will die, or somebody close to you will die." I was hoping that that threat would scare Meg away, but she was so persistent.

"Erik, Christine is not coming tonight, she _forgot _about you."

"No, she didn't."

"Erik, she hasn't come yet, and that is because she forgot, just as I said. She chose a _book_ over you!"

"No, I didn't." I heard a voice that was very familiar to me, it was Christine. She had come after all, Meg was just spouting nonsense. All of what she has said since she had come was stupid. Oh well. "Christine, at last, you've come. You are later than usual."

Christine sighed, "I am so sorry, Erik. I fell asleep..." Her usually perfect hair proved her point; it was a mess and her curls were entangled. She must have fallen asleep unintentionally. "It is quite alright, Christine. Come here," I beckoned her over and she did not bother to notice Meg. Lucky girl, I was trying my best to ignore her. I took Christine's hand when she reached me and massaged it in between my fingers, "Is your hand feeling any better?" Christine winced in pain as I caressed her hand, "A little," She muttered. I knelt on the ground and kissed her hand, "I am sorry."

Meg was watching the entire time and she continually opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She began to cry again as she ran towards the stairs, when I called to her, halting her. "Do not forget what I said, Meg," She quickly looked away from me and down the stairs, dashing back into the Opera House, tears running down her cheeks.

I picked myself up and looked at Christine. Her cheeks were pink and she did not seem to have realised that her best friend had just stormed off, crying. "Christine," I said, attempting to get her attention.

"Y-Yes?" She asked, not looking up at me.

I smiled at her behaviour. "May I bandage your hand now? Meg does not seem to _care_ much about it, though she knows about it."

Christine answered me slowly, "Um, okay, where are the bandages again?"

"I have some in my... erm, lair. I shall take you there, if you wish it."

Christine looked as confused as she sounded, "'Lair', you say?"

"Yes, underneath the Opera House, where I live."

"Are you sure you would like to take me there?"

"I would just steal some of the medical supplies from somebody, however, I do think we should meet at my lair now, since your friend knows of the meetings we have here on the roof."

Christine grinned from ear to ear, "Okay, I cannot wait to see it!"

-

There we were, in the sumptious dressing room for one, with one wall as a large mirror. It was no trouble sneaking around the Opera House because everybody was so deep in their sleep. Christine managed to remain silent, as well. But now, she had a look of confusion on her face, but she kept her mouth closed, leaving herself pondering about why I had brought her here. However, she did not ask me any questions, which I suppose could be a good thing.

"We are almost there, Christine," I said.

She nodded with a yawn. It was very late, after all. I looked at the mirror and I saw looking back at me, my own reflection, half of it covered behind a white porcelain mask. I then put a hand on the mirror and slided it open and Christine's tired eyes widened, "Is that a door?" Her tone made me aware that she was actually _excited_ about this. I knew she would not be able to last too long without asking me any questions, or keeping her mouth shut but I'm glad that there was a hint of happiness in her voice. "That is exactly what it is," I stepped into the mirror and grabbed Christine's hand, "Now, would you like to go?"

She nodded quickly and stepped in after me. I went over to the mirror and closed it behind us. Then I walked down the long hallway the mirror concealed, pulling Christine along with me.

After walking for quite a while, I could tell that Christine was getting more exhausted as we progressed towards my _house on the lake_. "It is alright, dear, you do not have to walk any farther," I said to her in reassurance. We had reached a boat, sitting on a little shoreline beside the underground lake I am sure many people have heard of in rumours. It did not seem to bother her, she was too worn out, looking as though she were to fall asleep at any given moment. Realising this, I suggested, "I advise you keep yourself awake, otherwise, you will fall into the lake and that will be quite dangerous."

I pushed the boat into the water and walked into it. I stood with my hand out, waiting for Christine to take it and come into the little boat. She was a little uneasy. When she finally took my hand, she was shaking slightly, and I attempted to comfort her, by saying simply, "It will be okay."

I rowed slowly, keeping my eyes on Christine the entire time. She was so beautiful... then, as we got closer to my home, I realised that she had drifted to a peaceful slumber. I was not alarmed. I rowed the boat a bit closer to the shore and scooped Christine up in my arms to bring her inside to lay her on a bed where she could sleep comfortably. As I carried her in, I felt awkward having her in my arms. I glanced down at her, blushing.

'Is it really wrong for me to be in love with her?'


	8. Chapter 8

(A/N: This has got to be one of my favorite chapters of my story (It's also the shortest)! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do!)

**Chapter 8**

I put Christine down in the soft, velvet red cushions in a seashell-shaped bed and removed her shoes, placing them beside it. I watched Christine move around for a moment, finding a comfortable position to sleep in. When she was finally at ease, I smiled. I tried to yank the blanket out from underneath her, careful not to disturb her sleep. She stirred and grunted in an annoyed tone, so I pulled even more gently.

After a few minutes of tugging, the blanket was finally mine. I threw the blanket over her and finally let her sleep in peace. I stood and just stared at her, somewhat mesmerized by her beauty. Her eyes were shut, but they were _looking_ up at me.

I shook my head, trying to keep myself focused on what I was doing... I thought for a moment, trying to remember the reason (or excuse) for bringing Christine here. I sighed and quickly went to retrieve some bandages for Christine's hand. As the minutes passed, I became more angered. It was not like me to misplace things or forget where I kept something. I growled to myself and began to ramble on, incoherently. Not even I knew what was pouring from my mouth. Finally consumed by impatience I took off my black cloak and threw it on the ground. Underneath it I wore a a white shirt that was tucked into black trousers. I grabbed a sleeve and tore it off visciously.

"This will do."

I returned to the seashell bed with the sleeve I ripped off in one hand and a chair in the other. I let the chair down next to the bed and grabbed Christine's injured hand. The feel of her delicate skin relaxed me and my anger quickly vanished. At my own leisurely pace, I wrapped the soft cloth around her hand.

My effort to keep Christine from waking was to no avail. Her voice sounded tired as she spoke, "Thank you, Erik," She said.

I heaved a sigh, exasperated at my failure. I just gave a huff of acknowledgement.

"What is wrong with your shirt?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

She nodded and shut her eyes again but she opened them once more. "What?" I asked. "Did you not hear me?"

She blushed, laughing lightly. "Well, it is hard to sleep with you watching me like that."

"Oh." I took the chair and turned it around so my back was to her. She thanked me and I answered with another huff. I heard her moving around from behind me and I could tell she was feeling a bit awkward about her surroundings and my presense. To calm her, I sung to her a lullaby... at least, I think I did.

I have never heard a lullaby before.

-

Christine had finally awoke from her deep sleep and groaned. She rubbed her groggy eyes and what used to be my sleeve touched her face. "Huh?"

"I could not find any bandages." Although I could not see what she was doing, I knew what she questioned.

I heard her gasp, somewhat frightened and apalled. I rose from my chair and pushed it off to the side. "What's the matter? You sound uneasy," I said.

"No, that is not it, I forgot you were there."

"Oh." I looked at her with bored eyes, just waiting for her... she just sat there, silent. "Are you going to get up or not? It is already past noon."

"Oh, no, it is?" She jumped out of the bed and ran around in nervousness. "Madame Giry will make me take that _walk of shame_ again! I cannot have that happen! Oh, it is so mortifying..."

I _chuckled_, watching her. She could act so childish; it was one of her most precious of mannerisms, though.

"Oh, now even Erik is laughing at me! Just like all the other girls did! Such humiliation!"

"I disagree. I was not laughing at you," I said.

"What was it that you were doing then?"

"I was _chuckling_. _Chuckles_ and laughs are very different from each other."

Christine's earlier worrisome face had transformed; she was now smiling from ear to ear, bouncing in enthusiasm. "Erik, you laughed! I have never heard you laugh before!"

I blushed furiously, "...chuckled." I corrected.

"You have a beautiful... erm, chuckle. Can I hear it again?"

"Eh, what? 'Hear it again'?"

"Please!" She implored of me. She _really _didwant to hear my chuckle.

"Okay, but perhaps later. You need to get situated for the day first. I shall get you a dress and a hairbrush then I will take you back up to the Opera House."

"Oh, no! Please, can I stay longer?"

"What about Madame Giry?"

"It's okay! Erik, please?"

"Are you sure?"

"I want to stay here with you in your _house_! It really is beautiful!"

I looked at her; her eyes and her body language told me just as well as her voice did, 'I want to be here with you longer. With you, Erik.'

Maybe... she loves me too.

(A/N: Wow. I said chuckles a lot. I hope that didn't bother anybody.)


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

(A/N: Another one of my favorite chapters of my phic!)

"So, Christine," I began, clearing my throat with a cough. "There are a number of things I must retrieve for you."

"Like what?" Christine asked, innocently. She seemed slower than usual, her brain must still be half-asleep. I sighed, "I said that I shall get you a dress and a hairbrush," I went over to a small mirror that was hanging on the wall and removed it from its spot. I gave it to her so she could see her reflection, "You do not want to look like this all day, do you?" I smirked watching as she tried to yank the knots out with a forceful pull of her fingers. "Oh, I do look hideous!"

"Hideous, no. But I would have to say that it takes away from your beauty."

"Beau-" I interrupted her before she said something that would make this moment awkward.

"Do not worry, Christine. I shall return, just stay put," I did not mean to say it threateningly, however, she flinched at my demand so I smiled in reassurance, "I'll be back soon, I promise."

Christine sat herself down on a chair and nodded at me, silently. Her stomach broke the wordlessness with a loud growl and her cheeks turned red at the sound. "Ah! Err, sorry," She said, embarrassed, "I really have not eaten much..."

I chuckled, "Understood. I do not know if I have anything down here to satisfy your rowdy stomach, but I shall see what I can bring from upstairs."

Christine smiled, weakly and pointed out, "Erik, you chuckled again."

With a grin, I responded, "So I did." And started on my way back up to the Opera House.

But I reminded her not to move, of course.

I hurried to fetch Christine's things so that I could get it to her before she is overbore by curiosity. As I got higher, the tumultuous bustle of the managers, instructors, ballet dancers, Opera singers, and all, moving so energetically and busily. I ran over to Madame Giry whom I have spotted from my hiding spot behind a statue in the main lobby. She seemed to be walking to the stage but I quickly ran to her but my shoes made no sound on the tiles. I made sure they were mute. I took her wrist and dragged her to the underneath of a staircase, where it was dark enough that nobody would see us. "Before you begin to holler at me for pulling you under here and making you tardy for your lesson with the dancers, I need your help," I spoke quickly, I felt as though time was scarce. It wasn't that I did not trust Christine; I don't trust her inquiring mind. Curiosity; a most discreditable female trait, indeed. "'Help'? Now, Erik,"

"Madame Giry! Please! I have Christine Daae in my underground-"

"You have Christine Daae? Erik, will you desist your childish antics? That girl is a _ballerina_! She does not need to be a part of your little parade!"

"I know, I am sorry. Just please, I need to get some food, a dress, and a hairbrush for Christine right away."

Madame Giry stepped out of the shadows and started back towards the stage, "I am sorry, dear, but I have something I must get to." I growled and stormed off. I had to do this myself; how I would get into the Christine's dorm without being acknowledged by her little ballerina friends would be miraculous. But who would not notice a young man draped in black with a white porcelain mask upon the right side of his face?

"Oh, Erik better hurry. I am getting so very bored," Christine complained. She sat in the chair, squirming around. She could not sit still... not with such elegant and beautiful _things_ surrounding her. Every inch of Erik's sanctuary was a work of art. No, it was not just a work of art; they were masterpieces unlike anything Christine has ever seen! Each piece of furniture was so lovely, and even alluring. Christine wanted to see it all. Everything had a beautiful pattern or design on it... _everything_. Chairs, tables, vases, paintings... so exquisite. They were all unique but they went well with each other. "Oh, I would like to lay eyes upon the gorgeous artwork of Erik's home," It was all so tempting but Christine restrained herself. "No, he told me to stay. I should obey him... I do not want another broken hand... oh, I cannot allow curiosity to consume me!"

She plopped down onto the chair, "But he has to get here soon. Hearing my voice and nobody else's respond to it seems rather ho hum."

I have already been running around for twenty minutes and I managed to take food from somebody. I had it in a bag; it was just some fruit and bread, but it was better than nothing. But the little ballerinas' practise did not start until later today because the older dancers have been preparing for an upcoming opera.

I have almost been seen by a number of people. I'm not much of an Opera _Ghost_... but what am I to do? I may be a genius, but I am still a person. Wait, I am a genius. I should be able to outwit a bunch of preteens and teenage girls. I know...

"I am telling you, I know nothing of Christine's whereabouts!" In the dorm, Meg was crowded by the girls as they pleaded for the latest gossip concerning Christine. "Oh, Meg, you are lying! You know very well where Christine is!" One girl accused.

"Yes! You are Christine's best friend, are you not? So where is she?" Another girl said.

"You are all so persistent!"

"Meg, you are acting strangely. Usually, you would place the blame upon your _Monsieur O.G._ but now..!"

"Monsieur O.G. does not exist! It was all a hoax! Just come off it," Meg grumbled.

At that moment, there was a soft playing of a violin heard. "Wait!" Meg was the first to hear _my_ violin-playing. "You hear that? It's O.G.!"

"I thought you just said he doesn't exist."

"I know that is him, I recognise his music!"

Meg ran out of the room towards the roof and all the girls followed her, calling her name for her to slow down because some of them couldn't keep up. I came out from where I was. I was playing quietly, so that Meg would think I was playing from as far away as the roof.

She fell into my trap. I kept playing and walked into the dorm and found Christine's belongings, dug through them, and found a dress. I put down the violin for a second and I threw it over my shoulder, grabbed a hairbrush with brown strands of hair that I knew so well, wrapped around its bristles. Finally, my errands were concluded...

And it has almost been an hour since I left Christine. What of her now?

'I should have stayed still, but Erik was taking way too long!' Christine wandered through Erik's home, so amused. She walked slowly around, looking at everything with inquisitive eyes. There was a smile upon her face as she stared at the bizarre, but beautiful artworks. Then she entered what seemed to be a bedroom. Furnished nicely, but simply. Candles lit the room, a bureau, a couch with a painting hanging above it, and of course...

A coffin?

Christine drew back and her eyes were now filled with fright and she felt like crying. What was this coffin and why did Erik have it in his bedroom? It was so disturbing, it made her stomach churn. She never wanted to see a coffin again... not after she saw her father put in one. She quickly spun around and retreated to the chair she was supposed to remain in. She sat herself down and tears soaked her face and her nightclothes as they ran down her cheeks.

Her chest was in excrutiating pain and her bawls were so loud and full of sorrow.

A simple casket... a wooden box... caused her so much torment. 'Why did I allow myself to explore Erik's... _dungeon_ despite what he said? A prying Pandora, that is what I am! But I have nobody here to reassure me, like she did! No father... and how will Erik explain _that_ coffin? That evil little box of death!'

Christine cried and after a few minutes, she felt arms around her body. _Mine_. I had taken longer than I had hoped and when I returned to see tears in her eyes, my heart broke into so many pieces. And I whispered into her ear,

"Why are you crying?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

(A/N: By the way, if anyone wants to talk to me, message tennyeatscheese on Yahoo! Messenger or tennyeatscheese on AOL Instant Messenger. I'd love to talk to you guys and it's easier that way.)

Her sobbing did not cease. "Christine, tell me," I said, tenderly. "Please," I held her tighter and tried to relax her by humming a soft tune. Though she was not fully relaxed, she was relaxed enough to tell me what was wrong. "Erik, why do you have that... that..." Well, almost.

"What is it?"  
"There was a coffin in a room," She answered. She began to sob again and my embrace loosened. "'A coffin'...?" I hesitated to speak up again.

"...I told you not to move."

"I am so sorry that I disobeyed you, Erik..."

I stood in front of her and watched her cry somewhat silently. I was so angry, but I couldn't yell at her; she didn't deserve it. She looked so pained and it was all my fault. I shouldn't have left her here by herself, "No, I'm sorry, Christine."

"Why?"

"I should not have left you here by yourself."

I knew she wanted to ask me why I even had a coffin in my bedroom but I suppose that she needn't pry anymore. She got up and settled her hands on my chest and they tugged at my shirt lightly. She laid her head on me somewhat nervously; I felt her tremble a bit.

How very familiar... but this time it wasn't Meg, it was Christine. In sleep, I often dreamed of this. "It felt so terrible! I remembered my poor father as he lay in his own casket! I remembered him being lowered into a hole... I remembered how he promised me an Angel of Music, but it was all a fairy tale..."

"Fairy tale or not," I put my arms around her. "I am here for you instead."

With that I bent down and kissed her so passionately. I felt her body ease and she was less stiff. One of her hands caressed the cold mask on my face and I could feel her touch from behind it. So tender, so caring... I wished that this moment would have last forever, but she was overcome by curiosity yet again and she tore off my mask. I forcefully pulled my arms off of Christine and covered my horrendous deformity with my hands. "Damn you! You inquisitive nuisance! What do you want to see? My face, which is hardly a face? The scar that my mother so loathed? The mark that made me the black sheep?"

"Erik, I am so sorry..."  
I totally ignored her apology, but it's not like it would have done anything. I was screaming like a madman. "Fine, fine! You wanted to see? Here, look!" I put my hands down and glared at Christine through my two golden eyes. The eyes that adored her so now filled with so much rage. I could see in her eyes that she was going to cry again but she managed to hold them back. "Go on! There are tears in your eyes! Cry! It frightens you! It's repulsive isn't it? Ghastly, revolting, gruesome, and disturbing! You will cry, you will retch! You _will _!"

"Erik! Please, calm down!"

"You thought that that _carcass case_ was horrifying? I _am _the carcass! A living corpse!"

"Erik! Please!"

"Your desire to know what my home looks like, what my face looks like caused you this torment! You keep asking questions, you always want to know! You used to ask me why I kissed you that one night we were on the roof... I love you, that is why! But who would love a walking cadaver? If you never discovered this hellish disfigurement, I was sure I could make you love me! But now, all is lost, isn't it? Tell me, do you love me? You don't!"

Christine's tears finally flowed out of her eyes and she sobbed, "Erik, please stop this! You're scaring me..."

"Who would not be scared by this face?"

"It's not your face... Erik, please..."

"Okay then, tell me, do you love me?"

"Erik, please don't make me answer that question..."

"Do you?"

"I don't know..."  
"Get out! Leave me alone! Go now!"

Christine dashed away and I collapsed on the ground, sobbing like Christine was. She sounded so helpless as she pleaded. "_Please, Erik_..." She kept saying, but I kept making her beg. I showed her no pity; rage swallowed me whole.

Why was I cursed with this face?

* * *

Christine was standing in Erik's boat, rowing as quickly as she could. The boat was shaking beneath her and she has fallen into the lake several times already. 'What will Erik do now? He broke my hand for reaching for his mask... what will he do for actually ripping it off?'

The thought terrified Christine more than anything. She knew that whatever was going to happen, would be her fault.

* * *

Christine returned to the dorm with this thought haunting her mind. She entered the dorm, soaked to the skin. She was panting from rowing so hard and she was so out of energy. She still didn't change from her nightclothes or eaten a single meal. She fell to her knees and sighed in relief. Meg and the other girls dashed over to Christine. "What happened to you?" Meg asked, worriedly.

"I will explain myself later... let me clean myself up first."

* * *

Christine was brought a robe for her to wear while she waited for her hair and clothes to dry and Madame Giry excused her from practise later on that evening. When Christine was finally settled (and fed) she sat at the side of her bed, Meg seated herself behind her and brushed Christine's hair for her. She explained her day with Erik and at during some of the story, Meg groaned. Christine apologised, "Sorry, Meg, I know... you like him..."  
"It's okay. He likes you."

"No," Christine said. "He loves me but I did not say that I loved him back."

"Do you?"

"I honestly do not know. But I know Erik is going to do something because I denied him... I do not know what he will do, but it is going to be bad. He broke my hand for reaching for his mask. Well, I took his mask off and I also rejected his feelings for me... Something is going to happen."

Meg gasped. "Christine, how could you? He could kill you!"

"Kill me? Why would he kill me?"

"Because he is capable of doing so! I heard that when he was younger he wrapped a Punjab lasso around a man's neck... and killed him... that could happen to you!"

Christine laughed. "Oh, I am sure that is just a rumour. I know Erik. He may lose his temper, but he is just too kind... he is just too sweet... his heart is just too big."

"If you say so, Christine. If you say so."

* * *

It was midnight. I should have climbed to the roof to play for Christine again, but I could not bear to. I could not even eat the food that I brought for her. I tried but then I just lost my temper and threw whatever I had at the wall. I took her dress and her brush and threw them in the bed that she slept in. It was all I had left of Christine.

But I left nothing to Christine... but I will. I quickly wrote a letter to Christine in red ink and slipped it into one of my pockets. I found a rope and tied it into my Punjab lasso and started up towards the Opera House. Everything was silent because everybody was asleep. I walked through the Opera House without bothering to hide. There was nothing to hide from anyway. I approached Christine's dorm and I was going to turn the knob and let myself in but I heard a voices come from inside. "Where are you going, Mireille? It's so late..." One of the voices said, yawning. "I am going to get a glass of water."

"Why?"

"I'm thirsty! Why else?"

I saw the knob turn so I quickly hid. This Mireille girl stepped into the dark hallway and shut the door behind her. I grabbed her and put a hand over her mouth. She was about to scream but I silenced it. She tried to speak and shake herself free but she couldn't. I took a handkerchief that was in the pocket with the note and tied it over her mouth and slipped her head into my lasso. I whispered to her with a maniacal smirk across my face, "Do not worry, it will end soon. And I will make sure your friends will be able to say goodbye at your funeral by leaving your body here where they can find it."

There was a coat hanger outside of the ballerinas' dorm so they could grab their coats on their way out. I tore down all of what was hanging there and tied the other end of my rope to it and yanked hard enough so the girl would be above the ground.

With a crack of her neck, she died and I smiled victoriously, feeling no regrets. I left her there, staring at those who pass with large, frightened eyes. Underneath her, I left the note there where Christine will find it.

Christine woke early with a throbbing headache. She had a horrible dream about Erik and about what Meg had said to her about a time when Erik killed a man. She got up out of bed and stretched and told herself that Erik would never do such a thing. She went to go wash her face in cold water because she was sweating from such a horrid dream. When she opened the door, she saw a girl hanging on the wall, her head twisted in a weird position.

Christine's nightmare was a reality. She screamed so loudly that all the rest of the ballerinas woke up to see what was wrong. When they found out what it was, some of them started to cry or look away. Christine stared at the girl with wide eyes. "Look, there is a note by her feet..." Said one of the girls. She bravely stepped over and retrieved it and read, "It... it's for Christine."

Christine read it to herself.

_Dearest Christine Daae_, it said.

_I offered my heart to you, but you broke it into so many pieces. Would you have loved me if I was handsome? If I was not as easily tempered as I am? Would you have loved me... if I was normal?_

_Well, these questions will never be answered because you will probably never see Erik's face ever again. But this is a warning; if you ever do see me again, remember that I am capable of this... this is not even the worst that could happen._

_Signed, **The Phantom of the Opera**_

Christine's eyes filled with tears and she dropped the letter. '_This is all my fault. I am responsible for whatever is to come. I am responsible for the Phantom of the Opera _!'


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

(A/N: This was a very difficult chapter, so bear with me and be kind. I was writing this while I should have been doing a project...)

That day at the Opera House was so much quieter than usual. Everybody seemed much more sluggish than usual. The excitement and enthusiasm was lost; weeping and sadness replaced it. Christine was the most distressed of all. She did not speak, but she was not silent. She laid on her bed, her face in a pillow as she cried. Despite the pillow, her sobs were still heard very clearly. Meg sat next to her best friend and laid a gentle hand on Christine's arm, "Christine, please get up. You cannot lie there all day."

Christine shook her head, indicating that she did not want to get up. Meg sighed, "Tell us what is wrong then."

She choked back a sob and mumbled. The pillow muffled what she had said so Meg asked "what" repeatedly. It was not like Christine to get angry, but her temper was completely lost. She threw the pillow at Meg and hollered, "It was my fault that Mireille was killed!" With that, Christine's face fell into her hands and she cried into them. "I should have just told Erik how I felt, but I _stupidly_ said that I did not know!"

"But you said-" Meg started.

"I know what I said Meg, but I love Erik!" She cried harder still. "But I can never tell him... it will not take back what he has done... no, what I have done. Mireille is still going to be dead."

One of the girls that was listening suggested, "You should tell him, Christine. It is better that he knows."

"Perhaps," Christine mumbled.

"There is no 'perhaps' about it. You should tell him," The girl said. The others nodded in agreement but Meg remained still. "Besides, something more could happen if you do not tell him now," Said another.

Christine grinned at all of them, "Thank you for being so supportive, but I will never see Erik again."

* * *

Christine fell asleep on a tear-soaked pillow. In her dreams she remembered poor Mireille, hanging on a wall with wide, frightful eyes. As though it was not bad enough, the coat hanger stretched out longer and on each hook was a dead ballerina. On the last of them, she saw as Erik tied a rope and tugged it, bringing her body up off the ground. A loud crack echoed in the darkness and following it was Erik's maniacal laughter...

Christine's eyes shot open and her forehead was moist with sweat. She looked around the room and saw that all the girls were sleeping in their beds, peacefully. Christine put a hand on her chest, sighing. Beneath her hand, she felt that her heart was pounding double time. Also, her stomach was churning and overwhelming nausea filled her. She got out of bed and stumbled over to the door before she had a disgusting accident. She opened the door and looked into the hallway and saw the coat hanger. Some of Mireille's hair was tangled on the hook that she was tied to and Christine recalled the sight of Mireille's dead body. Christine felt as though somebody stabbed her in the stomach, making her feel even more sick. Then, the image of the dead ballerinas dangling on the wall with twisted necks filled Christine's mind as the room began to spin around her, and she collapsed.

* * *

Meg awoke the next morning and stretched out her tired arms and legs. Meg went over to Christine's bed to wake her as she usually did, but Christine was not there. Meg gasped, thinking of what may have happened. 'What if Erik did to Christine as he did to Mireille?" Meg was about to dash out of the room, but when she opened the door ajar, Christine's head fell through. Alarmed, Meg screamed and the rest of the ballerinas' slumber came to an unpleasant stop at Meg's wake-up call. "What happened, Meg?" Said one girl, yawning. "Christine... Erik killed Christine!" Meg spoke through her tears. One of the girls approached Christine, "Really?" She bent down beside Christine and looked at her, then rolled her eyes. "She is asleep, Meg. Not dead."

"Oh."

Meg kneeled down beside Christine and shook her lightly. "Christine, wake up. What are you doing sleeping in the hallway?" She shook her harder. "Christine?" Christine moaned and Meg woke her with a smack across the face. "Christine!" Christine quickly sat up and her eyes wandered in confusion, "What just happened?"

"You fell asleep in the hallway," Meg giggled. "That is what happened."

"Oh, I remember now... I was not feeling well... as though I was going to vomit."

Meg slid a few inches away from her with a look of disgust. "You do not feel like that now, do you?"

Christine shook her head, "No... but I suppose I fainted... I think it's because of this unusual dream..."

"'Dream'?"

"Nightmare," Christine corrected. "I had a nightmare, rather..."

Christine explained herself and dread filled the ballerinas' eyes. "Yes... and I _know _Erik will do something. He is probably still angry... but I could stop it all if I tell him..." Christine gasped, "That is it! I shall tell him, then all this madness will stop!" Christine dashed away but was stopped by Meg, "Wait, Christine, not yet! We have practise soon!"

"I will have to skip practise again... I am so sorry, Meg, but I have to do this."

Then Christine vanished into the hallway, but Meg was chasing her, but Christine was too preoccupied to realise it.

* * *

Christine entered _that room_ again, with Meg following her. Christine approached the mirror as Meg watched her from her hiding spot behind a couch. Christine pulled at the door to Erik's lair open and stepped in, shutting it behind her. Meg approached it and observed the mirror for a moment then slowly slid it open. She stepped inside to find Christine a few feet ahead of her, running and Meg followed her all the way to the lake.

Christine still did not notise Meg's presense. The boat that Christine rowed herself in the last time she was there was sitting on the shore and looked to be untouched. 'Erik must have used another way out of here when he killed Mireille.' With that, Christine shoved the little rowboat into the water and grabbed herself an oar. Meg stood on the shoreline and growled, saying, "Damn it." Christine immediately turned and faced Meg, her heart racing, "My God!" Christine gave herself some time to breathe and she looked at Meg, shocked, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I followed you. I had no idea that you would try to confess your feelings to Erik... I was hoping you would give up!"

"Why?" Christine shouted angrily. "You said you were fine with Erik's feelings for me, did you not?"

"But I never said I was okay with your feelings for him!"

"Why do you do this to me, Meg? What have I done?"

Meg glared at Christine and Christine gulped. "Just stop this before I expose Erik's hide-out. He will be arrested for killing Mireille."

"You dare challenge the Phantom of the Opera...?" Christine asked, dropping the oar and dragging the boat back to shore. She walked around Meg, intimidating her with her own words, "'When he was younger he wrapped a Punjab lasso around a man's neck and killed him.' Do you remember?"

Meg glanced down at the ground, gulping,"It-it was just a rumour."

"Is it? Well, Mireille's death is very much true or are you going to try to convince me that her dead body was just a mirage, hm?"

"Christine, what is wrong with you? You are not acting much like yourself..."

"How can I be the quiet, sweet Christine Daae when my best friend is trying to take the boy I love from me? How can I remain calm and collected when that boy murdered one of my friends?"

Meg's legs gave in and she fell on her knees, sobbing, "Okay, I am sorry! I will not disturb you two ever again! Please, just stop this, Christine. You can have Erik, I just want my best friend back!"

Christine suddenly felt pain surge throughout her body. _How could she do such a thing_? Christine helped Meg back up to her feet and cried with her, embracing her. "Meg, I apologise, I don't know what happened to me... please, just go back. Erik wants me, I know it." Meg nodded, hugging her back. When they broke free of their embrace, Meg grinned, whispering, "Go to him, Christine. Good luck."

Christine waved after Meg as she walked away and Christine got into the boat and rowed her way over to Erik.

* * *

Christine came to a stop when she hit the shore with a thud. She hopped out of the boat and ran into Erik's bedroom. There she saw Erik, lying in the coffin and Christine put a hand over her mouth, gasping. She got closer to him and soon sighed, relieved, 'He is only sleeping.'

Christine stroked his cheek and felt that it was wet with tears. She felt a world of hurt in her chest, 'He was crying. It must have been because of me,' Christine leaned over and went to kiss him, but hesitated because she was somewhat nervous.

But when she did kiss him, she slipped her tongue into his mouth and it danced around. And after a moment of stillness, Christine felt arms around her neck and a tongue in her mouth. Christine eventually broke the kiss and _I_ looked at her with questioning eyes. "Christine, you've come back," I said, my face beaming.

"So I have," Christine caressed my cheek with such care. "Erik, I have realised something." She paused andsaid, slowly, "I love you..."

"...My face does not frighten you?"

"No... you may have killed Mireille, you may have an easy temper, and you may have a distorted face... but you are so beautiful."

I finally gave in and I started crying; crying like a child. I sat up and clutched onto Christine, tightly. "Not even my mother had said anything like that... Christine..." I sobbed and she comforted me with a loving touch. "It's okay, I am here," She said. I pushed her away and sniffled, "About that... Christine, you cannot stay here."

"What? But Erik-"

"You cannot keep disappearing and I cannot keep you here. You have to go back to the Opera House."

"I will not see you again?"

"I will always be there, I _am _the Phantom of the Opera."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

I've gotten many reviews and I haven't replied to them, but I have decided to do so now... I'll start from my last reviewer, to the first.

**Carolinus Took**: Who wouldn't want to huggle Erik?

**The Singing Fox Demon**: Sorry it took so long to Chapter 12, but I still updated!

**Han Fatsu Anti Normal**: Well, if Erik killed one of Christine's friends... it would have a larger impact on her.. thus, Erik killed a girl. Oh yeah, I liked your Chuckles comment. :)

**Maeve Of the Nile**: Dark chapter, indeed. I like to stick to romantic stuff but it was necessary.

**YoukoElfMaiden**: Thanks, I try my best!

**GoldenLyre**: Thanks, loyal reviewer!

**RietroFan42**: Thanks a lot. I just thought that it was an interesting comparison, because Erik is called a living corpse and stuff and he has a coffin.

**Number47**: Okay, I'm going as quickly as I possibly can!

**Countess Alana**: That's an interesting approach. It's sweet. :)

**Angel**: Christine is 12, Erik is 17. It may seem strange, but... ah, whatever. They're still my favorite couple ever!

**TerpintineMind**: Thanks, but they are children. I suppose they should be naive. Children... I'm not one to talk am I? is 14 years old

**Cat**: Thanks for the offer, but I would like to see how I do on my own. Don't worry, I'll try to pick up the little mistakes... eh heh.

**midnightangel38**: Thanks, I'm glad you like my story.

**PhantomInMyDreams**: I think it's weird too, but Erik isn't really normal.

**Aurie**: Cliffhangers are fun and enjoyable. I leave them at cliffhangers for kicks and giggles. Nah, I just tend to do that, I suppose.

**Slashzilla**: I'm sorry. It was an accident? Haha, sorry I made you cry, Slash.

**Saber**: Thanks, I'm glad you like it.

**The Dash**: Well, thank you very much.

* * *

(A/N: In this chapter, a few years will pass and it will have some references from the novel, the play, and the movie, however, it will not be my own version of the original.)****

_Sobbing_. I could hear it from my dwelling, behind the mirror. Christine was now back at the Opera House, sitting in front of the large mirror, crying. The sadness of her voice when she wailed, "He's gone... he's gone...!" ripped through me, but I couldn't go back to see her. Not yet.

Meg kneeled down beside Christine, who was on the floor, sorrowing. "Christine, why are you crying?" She asked her friend, softly. Christine wiped her eyes, but they flooded with tears again. "I will never see Erik again!"

"Oh, Christine," Meg sniffled. "You will too see Erik again..."

"No, I won't! ...And after I tell him about my feelings... Meg, it hurts so..."

Meg embraced Christine and they wept together. "Christine, it will be alright..." Christine shook her head, "No... it will never... not until I get Erik back..." Christine sobbed louder and so did Meg, as she tried to comfort her friend. It pained me so, knowing I was responsible for their tears.

* * *

It has been five years since Mireille's death, but the Phantom of the Opera did not rest. Even as a 22-year-old, I seemed like a schoolyard bully, playing pranks and scaring others into giving him their money. Christine and Meg were 17 now and were now part of the chorus and they were fellow corps de ballerinas, dancing on the stage, gracefully, during an Opera. It always put a grin on my face to see Christine, but as I watched the operas from Box Five, the box that I demanded the managers to reserve for me, I began to get bored and very irritated.

Irritated because of the diva Carlotta, whose voice made me want to rip my ears off. Right now,Carlotta practised with Monsiuer Reyer and everybody else were taking a short break.While Christine and Meg rested after a long afternoon of ballet practise,I eavesdropped on their conversation from above the stage."That Carlotta... we would be better having an animal as the prima donna." Meg snickered.

"Yes, but who else would be prima donna?" Christine sighed.

"You could! You sing beautifully, Christine. You do!"

"Right," Christine said sarcastically. "Wait, are you suggesting that I am an animal?"

"Do not give me that attitude! And no, you are not an animal. Anyway... go on and sing. Come on now, sing Carlotta's song then! Prove to me that you _cannot_ be prima donna."

"That is ridiculous, Meg!" Christine said, laughing. "Why would I do that?"

"There is nobody listening but you and I." At least that is what Meg thought.

Christine shook her head, sighing. After a moment of hesitation, she took in a breath and began to sing so dazzlingly. I reminisced and recalled her singing voice of 12 years. Oh, how it has matured and improved! Why should that toad Carlotta be praised as prima donna when young ballet and chorus girl, Christine Daae, has a such a divine voice? Instead of rehearsing as a ballerina and chorus girl for _Hannibal_the Opera they were preparing forshe should belearning and rehearsingall of Toad's songs and restoring the beauty of the music that Carlotta took away when the words fell out of her mouth.

I got it! _Sabotage_! Carlotta began to sing a songthat would be beautiful if it was not coming from her. With a roll of my eyes, I untied a rope that held a large prop for the Opera and I watched it fall and topple the song-butchering toad. All those around her gasped, as she squirmed around, babbling wildly. The two fools/managers hurried over to the enfuriated diva. "My, I am so very sorry! Please, allow me," Said manager one. "No, allow me, Firmin," Oh, Firmin is his name. I forgot; it isn't like I care very much either. All I want of them is to surrender their francs. Both managers took hold on Carlotta's hands and yanked her out from her prison underneath the large prop. "Now," Said manager two, still nameless. "Are you alright? Can you still sing?"

Carlotta argued with incoherent rambling. I heard something about a "doggy" but that seemed rather irrelevant until I realised something: she was leaving. With a mutt in her arms and her belongings in her... _servants' _arms, she stormed out of the Opera House, the managers trying to convince her to stay. With a smirk, I watched the two managers begin to panic when Carlotta disappeared behind the large doors to the Opera House.

"What are we to do now? Hannibal was supposed to be in a few days!" Panicked ManagerTwo. He then gasped, "Oh! Is there an understudy?"

"Surely there must be an understudy, Andre! There must be!" Firmin said in response. The old conductor, Monsieur Reyer sighed, "There is no understudy... not for La Carlotta..."

"We are simply doomed then!" Said Andre.Firmin nodded his head solemnly, in agreement.

Meg gasped and waved her arms around, trying to get their attention. "I have a suggestion!" Christine blinked at Meg, confused. Andre, Firmin, and Reyer turned to Meg. Meg pointed to Christine, "Christine could sing in place of La Carlotta!"

"What? Meg, no, I could never!" Christine retorted.

"A chorus girl?" Andre spat, in what seemed like disgust. Firmin answered, in desperation, "Fine, sing then. Go on," Firmin demanded.

Christine's face flushed red as she looked around at everybody, waiting for her to start the song. Christine gulped, stepping forward as the music began to play. She came to a stop and braced herself to sing. "_Think of me..._" She began quietly out of nervousness, then she turned to Meg who was cheering wordlessly, with a large grin on her face. Christine smiled and sang more confidently and the managersstared at her in disbelief. Everybody around her was also stunned by the beauty of her voice. I sneered; her voice is good, but not perfect. I will be the one to make it perfect. For now, I lingered, listening to her sing.

When she was finished, everybody around her began to clap and she laughed, shyly. Andre and Firmin approached her with praise. "Lovely! You have the voice of an angel, Miss Daae!" Said Firmin. Christine giggled and thanked him.Andre smiled, "Yes, truly exquisite! With some practise, I am sure you will feel much more comfortable singing in front of an audience!"

"Yes, comfortable!" Firmin responded, excitedly.

* * *

They definitely did make Christine comfy. The two gave Christine the prima donna's dressing room where she could be at ease, and relax.

That evening she sat in her new dressing room. "I really do not deserve this," Christine groaned, as she sat on the extragant couch with Meg beside her. Meg chuckled, "Oh Christine, why so modest? Just enjoy it. This room is very beautiful."

"Okay." Christine murmured in reponse.

"What is the matter?" Meg questioned, softly.

Christine remained silent for a moment as she recollected her memories. "This room reminds me so much of Erik... and of how I shall never see him again."

"Oh, Christine, that was years ago. Forget about it all," Meg suggested.

"I cannot forget him. I could never!" Christine shouted.

Meg comforted her, "I am sure he is still around, though. That incident with Carlotta, that had to be his doing."

Christine wiped her eyes so that the tears that were tickling her eyes would not come out, "It was probably that Joseph Buquet. It could not have been Erik."  
"This has not been the only strange thing that has happened." Meg pointed out.

Christine just shrugged, saying, "Shouldn't you go? It is getting late and I am sure you are becoming weary.."

"Umm.. I suppose," Meg opened the door and stepped out. She stopped and wished Christine a good night, "You should get some sleep yourself. Good night, Christine."

"Okay. Good night, Meg."

When Meg was gone, Christine stretched. "I should get some sleep... maybe I will feel better in the morning." She said to herself. Christine walked behind a screen and threw her clothes over it and a blush coloured my face. I was watching the entire time from behind the large mirror but I turned away, even though she was dressing behind a screen. Just the thought of it made me flush. When I glanced through the mirror again, she had emerged, in her nightclothes. Christine walked to her door, about to leave when I stopped her by calling her name, calmly. She gasped quickly turning around, asking who was there. Looking around the room, she saw nobody. She gulped, shivering in fear and I said, woefully, "Have you forgotten your angel...?" Christine gasped and approached the mirror, placing a hand on it. "Erik, is that you?"

I slid it open and looked down at her, one eye peering through the white mask that concealed the right side of my face. I felt so much joy stir within my body and I just smiled widely at her, throwing my arms around her. "It is..." I said, answering Christine's question. With tears in her eyes, she hugged me back, so tightly. "Erik, I have missed you so much... where have you been these past five years..."

"I have missed you too, but I've been right here... waiting for the right time to come to you."

"Erik, you should have come sooner! My heart so ached for you," She whimpered.

I apologised repeatedly and then she broke up our powerful embrace and smiled, despite her tears. "It is okay... you are here now, Erik. Thank God you are here with me... I would have broken down into sobs. This room brought back so many painful memories."

Again, I apologised. "I am sorry for all those painful memories... it is all my fault."

"Erik, I did not wait five years to listen to you pity yourself."

"Then what have you been waiting for?"

"Well, isn't it obvious..." She tiptoed a bit and kissed me on the lips affectionately and after a while, she broke the kiss to breathe in. I felt tears of joy fill my eyes but I dare not shed them. I quickly wiped them and took Christine by the hand. I whispered, "Come, it will be much better in my lair where we do not have to speak in whispers."

Christine shook her head, "Oh, no, I couldn't... I am much too tired and what if I do not show up to practise?"

"Christine... please..." It was sad of me to beseech Christine, but I felt no shame. I need Christine near me... Christine couldn't deny me, so she succumbed, allowing me to take her with me.

* * *

As expected, Christine got very exhausted by the time we arrived at my _home_. I brought her to the room and let her lie down. "I am certain that you are worn out. You should sleep," I said.

"What about you?" She asked, yawning.

"I am not going to sleep."

"Oh... what are you going to do?"

"Nothing."

"Oh... then..." She blushed. I raised a brow, befuddled by her behaviour and waited for her to finish her sentence. Noticing this, and not wanting to force me to wait, she blurted out, "can you stay here and watch me?"

I was silent then when I finally found the words, I spoke slowly, "Watch you? That is a bit unorthodox... but I cannot say that I am very conventional myself. But why?"

"So we can talk until I fall asleep... please?"

I found myself a chair and sat myself down, crossing my arms over my chest. "If you insist... however, may I remind you that the last time, you were not very comfortable with this?"

"I was a child, Erik..."

I chuckled and bent over, stroking her cheek with my thumb. "Yes, you have grown into a very beautiful young woman."

Christine's face turned pink and she giggled, sitting up. She leaned over and kissed me again. She grabbed me and pushed her body up against mine in a tight embrace. Her hands tugged at my clothes and the kiss was so passionate... it was more than passionate. It was beyond words.

We both pushed each other away, turning to look another way, our faces red. "Y... you should go to sleep." I said, seating myself correctly in my chair. Christine lied back down, nodding and said, "Okay, but I have one question."

"Okay, ask."

"Why didyou kill..?"

I was stunned by the question. How could I answer that question without breaking Christine's heart and bringing her to tears by telling her of my past, or lying?


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

(A/N: Some of this chapter is very unnecessary. I wrote it for my own amusement. Then again, that's why I write this entire phic... Ah, whatever. I wrote this because I wanted some fluff, however, Chapter 14, which I already have written, I like much better.)

By the way, thank you everyone for continuing to support and read my story! I love you all, you're great!

* * *

I froze and stared at her in disbelief. I coughed and quickly recovered, saying, "That is a question I will leave for another day. I am sure you are exhausted, so sleep," I stood up and was ready to be on my way out when she called over to me, keeping me from leaving. "Erik, those years ago I do recall that you told me that we needn't hide from each other and yet, that is all you do. You hid from me for five years, your face is concealed behind a mask, and you refuse to answer my questions."

Sharply, I replied, "Christine, I will leave it till another day. Just sleep and get off my back."

"Huh...?" She uttered weakly. With a sniffle, Christine's eyes quickly filled with tears as she whimpered, "Five years it has been and you still see me as a nuisance."

"'Still'? I have never seen you as a nuisance."

"Then why did you tell me to get off your back? Is it really that I always get in the way?"

I sat back down and stroked her cheek with a gloved hand. With a sigh, I apologised, "Sorry, please forgive my temper. Christine," She gazed up at me, waiting for a response. Wordlessly I gave her another kiss. I pulled myself away and whispered, "Good night."

Christine beamed with delight and wished me a "good night, Erik," before closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.

* * *

Christine awoke the next morning to the soft playing of a monkey in Persian robes with cymbals, sitting on amusicalbox shaped like an organ.The room was blurry. She wiped her tired eyes and looked over at the chair I was sitting in the night before. It was empty. She sat at the edge of the bed for a moment for she was still a bit sleepy but she stood anyway to look for me. She saw me at my organ, playing some notes, shaking my head, scribbling over something on a piece of parchment and revising my work. Obviously I was writing some music. Christine inched towards me. Though she was light-footed my all-hearing ears caught the sound and I turned towards her. I smiled, "Good morning. I hope you had a nice sleep."

She nodded at me and I studied her. Her hair was wild, her clothes were wrinkled, and her eyelids still half-closed. "Not one for mornings, are you?Come," I invited her to sit next to me on the piano bench and she gladly accepted. She came over and sat herself down right beside me. I continued with my writing and after a few minutes, I wondered if sitting, watching me play in parts and scribbling/writing on a piece of parchment was boring. Whether it be or not, I grinned at her again, asking, "Would you like to hear a song, Christine?"

"I would love to, but I do not want to keep your from your work."

"Work? I am simply writing for my own amusement."

"Then continue."

"It is alright. I shall play for you."

I placed my fingers on the keys of the organ and play with such grace. I have just written the song but it came out as though it was one of my favorite pieces, one that I would play often. I was lost in the music. My fingers flew, hitting each key so perfectly. I opened my mouth and felt the words come through. I sung of love and I did not even know that I wrote words to the song. The song was so seductive and passionate.

Christine placed her head on my shoulder and I grinned to myself but I didn't let myself get distracted. I kept playing and when I was finished, Christine's head turned towards me and I ended the song by placing a kiss on her forehead.

I drew back and Christine had a big teethy grin stretching at her cheeks. "That song was beautiful," She said, lifting her head slightly off my shoulder so her eyes would meet mine. I nodded then stared, pausing to admire the beauty of her face... not of just her face, her whole self. Christine's cheeks reddened, "What is it?" I leaned into her, my lips on hers. Christine shivered and tensed up, I could feel it beneath my fingers as I held her. I crept my tongue in her mouth and it explored and she shook, but I did not cease.

I knew she would soon relax, so she finally succumbed and fell slowly into the bench. Her arms wrapped around my neck, our tongues were fire, and our bodies pushed up against each other. Her head was hovering above the cushion on the bench, slightly as her nails dug into my cloak, tearing it a bit. I withdrew and I smirked at her, sucking in the air I was deprived of. "Erik," She whispered, feebly, also trying to catch a breath. Still with a smirk, I pushed on the bench, lifting my body up off hers. "I apologise. I must be hurting you underneath my weight."

One corner of Christine's tired lips raised slightly. She responded, simply with a whisper, "I love you, Erik..."

* * *

"Now Christine, the reason I have come back to you is to coach you. We must train your voice to perfection!" I said with a proud grin on my face. Christine sighed, "The only reason you came back is to assist in my singing?"

"Of course not... but I was searching for an excuse to come back."

"Why would you need an excuse? Why five years? Is there something that you were waiting for particularly?" Christine sure has matured but she still asked just as many questions.

Scowling I responded, "Come off it-" Then I remembered when Christine told me that all I did was hide from her. With another scowl I considered answering her questions. "I mean, I did not want to reveal myself too soon because too many people are already aware of my existence," I began.

"But you made it that way, Monsieur Phantom of the Opera..." She accused.

"Let me finish. Ah, but wait, you made a wonderful point, dear. A phantom is what I am... the men that do not recall or were not around during the incident of five years ago think that I am a silly apparition."

"I still do not know the answers to my questions."

"Be patient, I am getting there."

Christine heaved an exasperated sigh and I tapped my foot on the ground and excused her. "Anyway, I assumed that you had forgotten about me..." I admitted quite solemnly.

"Forgotten about you? Oh, God in Heaven, no! But waiting five years would not do well for my memory of you had you slipped my mind. I could have forgotten entirely if I forgot anything at all!" She paused. "I hope that made sense."

"I understand, and I know. I was uneasy, forgive me. But when I heard you sing to Meg, I decided that I would show myself to you whether you remember or not."

Christine blinked in confusion. I knew she was going to ask another question, "Were you watching Meg and I?"

I laughed, "Oh, no!"

"Erik," Christine whined.

"Well, I was watching you particularly." The look on Christine's face told me that she was going to question me further but I interrupted her by reminding her of the singing lessons. "Christine, I would like it if we were to have our little singing lesson now."

Christine nodded and I took her hand, leading her to the organ. We sat on the bench, where we earlier had our passionate rendezvous. I grinned thinking back at it and Christine disrupted my thoughts, "Erik, are you going to teach or not?" I nodded and placed my fingers on the keys, but I kept my eyes on her. "Okay, Christine. Now sit straight... no, you have to relax, too...your body has to be just as perfect as your voice... there, you are improving already..."

* * *

After an hour or two (or maybe even longer), we finished and Christine took a large gulp of water from a cup that I left sitting on the organ for her. The cool liquid relieved her exhausted throat. "That was good, Christine," I encouraged.

"Thank you."

"But you still need a world of practise."

Christine groaned and took another gulp of her water. I took the pitcher that was on the organ and offered to pour another glass. She shook her head, "No, there is only a little left," She observed. "You take it."

"I am fine. This is not the only water I have here anyway."

"You mean you drink from the lake?"

"...No. Here take it, you had a tiring lesson."

"I do not need it. Perhaps later."

I placed the pitcher back down, "Okay, then."

"I am going to lie down for a moment, if that is alright."

"Fine, do as you wish."

Christine stood and her leg hit the keyboard. She winced, grabbing her knee. She shrieked and I quickly asked if she was okay when the pitcher of water tumbled. Whatever was left in the pitcher was now on my shirt and pants. I moaned and Christine giggled, "Well, that made me feel better."

"I am glad." I said through my teeth. I snarled, tearing off my shirt and squeezing the water out of it. Christine noticed my anger and quickly apologised, "I am sorry, Erik. Hadn't I refused to drink the water..."

"It's fine."

"Sorry I laughed..."

I glanced over at her; she actually thought I was angry. "Christine," I beckoned. She had a curious look in her eyes and I held my shirt in one hand and the other hand reached out to Christine. She took my hand slowly and when she did I yanked her into my arms. I held her to my chest and her cheek grew warm. I lead her towards my bedroom, "Do not apologise. I will find myself something to wear as I wait for these to dry. Come with me," Not like she had a choice, I was bringing her there anyway, but she didn't fight me off.

* * *

As we stepped into my "bedroom", Christine's eyes avoided the coffin. I walked her over to my wardrobe. Letting go of her, I threw the doors open, revealing my dark cloaks, pants, pants, and several white frilly shirts. There were a few more things thrown in there but I pulled out a pair of pants and a shirt. "Where do you get all your things, Erik? You do not leave the Opera House, after all."

"I do leave the Opera House, but during the day, I either take what I need from somebody here or sew it myself or what," I answered. Christine stared at me and her face changed colour due to embarrassment. She turned away and prepared to walk away but I stopped her. "Christine, stay here."

"But why?"

"Just come," I said opening my arms to her. She looked back over to me and her face just as red as ever. She slowly inched closer. I grabbed her and slipped the sleeves off her shoulders. Then I attempted to yank gently on her dress enough so it would fall. As it began to slide off, she caught it quickly. I focused my eyes back on hers. They were wide in surprise and her face was deeply flushed. "What's the problem?"

"Erik, I..." She shook her head. "Never mind. I have been here long enough, perhaps you could take my back to the Opera House?"

"Christine-"

"I will be waiting by the boat," She responded, twirling around to face the door leading out. As she started on her way out, she pulled her dress back up on herself, securely.

She left the room in a hurried pace and I sighed, staring after her. I ran a hand through my black hair that was slicked back, messing it up slightly. 'What were you thinking, Erik? She is only 17 years old.'

* * *

I approached Christine, sitting on the shore beside the dinghy. She glanced up at me when I said, "Get up off the ground. Do you want a sandy behind?" She shook her head, standing and brushing the sand off of her. "No, I suppose not."

I pushed the boat into the water and stepped into it. "What are you waiting for? I do not have all day." She nodded and I pulled my hand out to pull her in and she took it slowly. She sat in front of me without a word said and I growled, smacking myself inwardly. 'She isn't very talkative because of _that_. Damn, what have I done?' I thought.

Her eyes barely looked into mine, as well.

"Christine, where in the world have you been?" Meg asked, worriedly as Christine hurried back into the dorm. Christine ignored her. "Christine?"

She flopped onto her bed and dug her face into the pillow, refusing to answer to Meg. Meg sat by Christine and quietly, she said, "Christine, are you okay?"

Christine mumbled, "No, I am not. I finally see Erik again and it's horrible. I am never going back again..."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Meg sighed. It hurt her to see her friend like this. "Christine, stop this nonsense. Get up and go back to him, you wanted him so badly," She grabbed Christine's arm and tugged her gently, "Come on now."

"No, Meg, I will not. Just leave me be. Sorry but I am not in a good mood."

"What is bothering you?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, what an answer."

Christine shook her arm out of Meg's hand and puffed. Meg shook her head, "Okay then. But you should get up, anyhow. It is almost time for rehearsals for Hannibal. You already missed a few and the managers are regretting their choice; you may not be the _star_."

"I never asked to be, Meg. As I do recall, you put me up to it."

"Christine, please, you are acting ridiculous. Nothing like yourself, tell me what happened.

"No! And I will not go to rehearsal either!" Christine hollered and with that, she took the pillow and put it over her head.

* * *

The ballet dancers exit stage after practising for a few hours to rest. They were very exhausted and Meg approached Madame Giry, "Mother, about Christine-" She began.

"I know. There is something the matter with Miss Daae, I know."

Meg was shocked. "How do you know?"

"I received a letter, from the... 'Opera Ghost'. Miss Daae was with him during her absence."

"What did the letter tell you?"

"He assured that Christine's singing is improving and she dazzle the audience the night of Hannibal... he also informed me that Christine may not be acting like her usual self, however."

"So he was responsible for this! Do you know what he has done?"

Solemnly, Madame Giry shook her head. "I don't know what the problem is. Perhaps you could go to Monsieur Phantom about it."

Meg stared at her mother with a befuddled look in her eyes. She shrugged and responded, "How am I to do that?"

* * *

After rehearsal, Madame Giry lead Meg to Christine's dressing room. Meg glanced at her mother, very confused. Madame Giry stepped over to the large mirror. She slid the mirror open, revealing the passageway to Erik's domain. Meg gasped and Madame Giry motioned her in, "This is the way to the Opera Ghost's lair. However, there is an lake that you must cross; if there is a boat, take it, if there is not, I am sure his all-hearing ears will catch your hollers."

Meg's eyebrow raised; she was more confused than ever but she nodded and Madame Giry allowed Meg to step in. She closed the door with a soft thud and on the other side of the mirror, Meg saw her mother give her a nod and turn away.

Meg walked hurriedly, her eyes wandering about. The walls were wet and _slimy_, a few rats scurrying at her feet. She followed the stonepath that she could only see because of the candles that were around. Eventually, she noticed a body of water in front of her. There, she thought, 'This must be the lake Mother was speaking of.' Meg searched the area around her with her eyes but found no boat. Disappointed, she heaved a sigh.

_'I am sure his all-hearing ears will catch your hollers_.'

Meg remembered what her mother had advised her to do before she journeyed down the Phantom's dwelling place. With that, she sucked in all the air she could and shouted his name...

Elsewhere, I was sitting at my organ, minding myself. I was playing and writing music as I usually did. I slammed my hands on the organ, scowling when I heard something ringing through my home. Somebody's voice. I could not determine what was said, but then, a louder scream echoed throughout my lair and I heard that it was my name. The only people that I am assuming know my real name are Madame Giry and Christine. I suppose that it is Christine calling to me as Madame Giry never comes to me; it is usually me to her. Still, it was difficult to tell whose voice was beckoning for me.

Yet, I smile to myself, hopes high that it is Christine returning to me. I shove my boat into the water, step in and row towards the voice.

* * *

As I get closer to her, I am sure that it is not Christine's voice. I frown. I was hoping to scold Christine for yelling so loudly, which may have damaged her voice which would then make her apologise. Although that doesn't sound very becoming, she apologises in such an adorable manner when she immediately decides that she has made me unhappy. Afterwards, it would have been a perfect time to comfort her with a soft embrace, a few gentle words, and perhaps a passionate kiss.

I rowed sluggishly for a few minutes until hitting the shore, interrupting my thoughts. I hopped out of the boat and dropped the oar beside it. I looked over to see Meg, and I recalled all the uncomfortable moments I have had with her. With a huff, I approached her, grumbling, "What is it?"

"Please pardon me, Monsieur Phantom," I grunted and she continued. "But I just thought that I should tell you about Christine. She is not doing so well," She said, shaking her head, sorrowfully.

Shocked, I responded, apprehensive, "What? What is the matter with Christine? Is she sick or did she hurt herself?"

"No, she isn't sick, she appears to be healthy, and she hasn't done any physical harm to herself. You should know, you told Mother that Christine would not be her usual self!"

I ignored what she said about what I wrote to Madame Giry, hoping that Meg would think I had nothing to do with it. "_Physical_ harm?"

Sighing, Meg responded, "Yes, but she is not very good emotionally. It seems that she was with you when she began to feel like this; do you have any idea what may have happened? You should." I failed, apparently.

I stood there silently, staring at the ground with my arms crossed over my chest, and my fingers tapping on my arm. Growling, I answered, "No. I do not. Are you attempting to blame me for Christine's sorrow?"

Shakily, she replied, "N-No! I am placing the blame on no one, but if she does not get out of bed... I don't know what could happen. The managers may give her back her role as a chorus girl and ballerina because she is not practising for Hannibal."

"She is not singing?"

Meg nodded her head and stomped on the ground, angrily. "Damn, and all of this is my fault... would she like to speak to me?" Meg shrugged. "I don't know..."

"Could you take me to her?"

"What?You cannot be seen by other people! What will they think? The incident from five years ago may not seem as _big_ today as it was then, but people have not forgotten, Monsieur! I assure you, there are probably still men that hold a grudge against you."

"Then you must take her here."

"She is not getting out of bed, and she said herself that she is _never_ coming back! You should go to her if you really love her! If you love her so, then go to her!"

I hesitated and nodded. "Tonight."

* * *

Just like I said I would, I visited Christine when all the other ballerinas were sleeping peacefully. When I approached Christine's bed, she was not sleeping as well as the others. Her forehead looked moist by sweat and her pillow and eyes looked wet with tears. Her breathing sounded uneasily and, though her eyes were closed, I could tell that she was in pain. I placed a hand on her somewhat wet forehead; she wasn't feverish, but I noticed that she flinched at my touch, even in her sleep. I wanted to speak with her but I did not want to do it where we could wake up the other girls. I scooped her up in my arms, carefully and exited the room, slowly and silently.

I made my way over to her empty dressing room, pushing the door open with my shoulder then shutting it by leaning up against it. I locked the door and shook Christine in my arms, whispering her name. She looked even more uneasy and it worried me, but it was understandable; I was shaking her as she lay in my arms for Heaven's sake. Eventually, her eyes shot open and scanned the room with her eyes. Then I spoke softly, "Did you have a nightmare?"

She gasped, jumping out of my arms. "Erik?"

"Yes. Now Christine," I began. "I believe that you are having problems... you do not want to sing?"

"No, I did not even want to get out of bed. Why have you brought me here?" She argued.

"Christine... I could not bear hearing that you were so depressed; refusing to get out of bed, sing, or come back to me... what have I done that was so wrong?"

Christine's face turned red and her eyes fell to the floor, staring at her feet. Realising that she did not want to speak, I continued, "Christine, I could not believe it. Five years we have been apart and you do not want me? After all those tears you shed in my absence? Christine, you were the only person that showed me so much compassion, love, and... happiness... others laughed, shunned, denied, rejected, hated this face... me. You showed me the passion only a woman could show... no, you did more than that... Christine... you _loved_ me despite my repulsive face and cruelty..."

Christine's eyes slowly met mine. "Erik, I still do love you... but despite knowing that I can see past your deformity, you are still ashamed. Show me the face behind the mask again, but this time, with kind eyes... Erik, show me your face without being ashamed!"

I hesitated, but after a moment, I lowered my head and shook it slowly. Christine pouted, grabbing my chin and I jumped at her touch. She brought my eyes to meet hers, "Erik, you don't have to show me, but I also would like to clarify that it is only you and I here and I could never _hate_ you for your _condition_." I pushed her hand away and swore under my breath. I turned my back to her and tore off the mask. "Show me, Erik," Christine said gently. I eventually spun back around to face her. When I did, she wasn't taken aback by my hideousness, she didn't even frown. In fact, she smiled widely at me. "That's it... now this is the face I wanted to see."

My cheeks turned a slight pink, "You have already seen it. What does it matter?" I went to put my mask back on but she stopped me by taking the hand that held it. "But this time your eyes do not threaten, they just adore." She put her other hand on the right side of my face, the side that I always hid and she caressed it with tender fingers and there was no sign of disgust in her eyes or posture.

Realising how ridiculous it was for hiding from Christine, I began to sob. Christine pulled her hands away as my knees gave in and I dropped to the floor. I bawled and she knelt beside me, and wrapped her arms around my body, whispering, "Don't cry now, Erik, don't cry..."

(A/N: Well... Christine certainly has been having some mood swings...)


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

(A/N: Just a warning, Erik and Christine are out of character, more so than usual.)

I collected myself and stopped sobbing into Christine. I slipped out of her grasp, and sniffled with my arm stretched out to her. "Erik, are you alright?" I nodded, "Yes, I'm fine." She smiled lightly, grabbing my hand to pull herself up. When she stood, I stared at her for a moment and she back at me. I took a stray curl from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear and began slowly, "Now, Christine, tell me what has been bothering you." I kept my hand on her cheek, stroking it gently. She giggled softly, "Bothering me? Nothing."

Though she was able to crack a smile, the look in her eyes showed me the opposite to what she had said. They looked pained; "Christine..." I groaned.

Christine frowned and surrendered, "Okay, I cannot lie to you, Erik," She said, "I suppose there is something wrong, but..."

"'But'?"

She hesitated. "Erik, I don't--"

I put a finger over her lips and she stopped speaking. "Okay, okay, I know what the problem is. I apologise for prying; but I didn't think that that _time_ would have affected you so. Don't worry, I am not angry at you for getting so upset, but I am disappointed that you will not be singing."

"Erik--" She said, behind my finger.

"Christine, it's your choice. Do as you please."

Christine glanced down at the floor. She looked as though she were deep in thought; after a while, she turned back up to me and said, "Okay then. I know what I want to do."

"What is it?"

She clenched my hand and then pointed at the mirror, "Come," She pulled me towards it and slid it open. She led me down the trail to the underground lake.

We hit the shore and I hopped out, taking her by the hand and helping her out of the boat. I smiled at her warmly, "I'm glad that you decided that you were going to sing." She grabbed my sleeve and glanced up at me with big, round eyes of brown. "Actually, Erik, I'm quite tired. Would it be alright if I had a singing lesson in the morning?" I nodded and answered, cheerfully, "Of course! You need to rest well if you want to sing well," She agreed and I put my hand on her shoulder and led her to the bedroom.

I walked her over to the large bed. She sat down at its side and I granted her a "good night, Christine." I whirled around to start out of the door, but she took me by the wrist, "Erik, can you stay here for a moment?"

I nodded, "As you wish. What would you like?"

She yanked her night gown from her shoulders and then pulled it off. It slipped to the floor, revealing her underclothes. I stared at her, blankly, "Christine..." I murmured. "I thought that it was rather childish of me to overreact that way. I shouldn't have made you worry so," She responded as she removed all that covered her. "Christine, what are you up to?" I asked calmly, "You should get some rest." She gave me a strange look. "Come, Erik," She was smiling gently yet seductively; I've never seen such such a look from her. I was speechless. When I found my voice, I coughed and turned on my heel towards the door, "I advise you take your clothes from my floor, put them on and rest up until morning."

She heaved a sigh that sounded somewhat disappointed. I turned back at her, fighting to keep my eyes on hers, but I failed. "Christine, you have priorities..."

"Nothing is more important than you, Erik!" She pleaded, sitting at the edge of the bed, holding the blanket up, covering herself. My eyes slowly moved from her bare skin to her eyes hers and I finally realised what she had said. It took a moment to sink in.

I stared into her eyes for a moment and then I laughed lightly. "Now is not that time. Good night, Christine. Sleep well," She smiled back at me and granted me a good night as well.

I kept Christine with me for a while to coach her and I did notice that people around the Opera House were getting worried. The managers were in the worst health of all. They decided to delay the showing of Hannibal (but of course, they didn't tell the customers that _yet_) and when I heard this, I rushed over to Christine that day. I told her of what I had heard and brought her back to the Opera. Christine made a triumphant return the day before Hannibal was to be shown. The customers cried tears of joy and as I watched from the shadows, I felt that I would as well, but I feared that I would start sobbing and I would be found out.

The night of Hannibal, I watched Christine from Box Five. As I watched her and listened to her voice, my heart danced happily. She must have sensed my happiness as she eyed Box Five for a second, her smile widening. A wiped a tear away as it began to run down my cheek.

Christine returned to her dressing room after the performance, where I left her a red rose tied with a black ribbon among the other flowers she received. I watched from behind the mirror as Madame Giry presented Christine the rose. Christine thanked her enthusiastically and Madame Giry congratulated Christine herself then walked out. From behind the mirror, I saw as Christine stared down at the rose I had given her. Tears rolled down her cheeks and I heard myself gasp. She must have heard as well. She wiped her eyes dry and called, "Erik?" I emerged from behind the mirror, "Don't try to hide your tears from me, Christine. Why were you crying?"

"Oh, I am not upset or anything!" She began to laugh. Quiet at first, then as she got louder, her eyes began to drown in tears. "I am just so glad that you were able to come and see me sing! Don't you see? I am shedding tears of joy!"

I wiped her eyes with my thumb, smiling. "Of course. And I wouldn't have missed your performance for the world... you were wonderful."

"Yes, I was, wasn't I? Thank you, Erik," Her words faded into a whisper as she stood on her toes to touch her lips to mine. She pulled away slowly and chuckled. She seemed so full of energy and joy. "So, I knew that you usually watch the operas from Box Five," She told me with such excitement.

"I do."

"I smiled at you, did you see?"

"I did."

She gave me alarge grin and giggled, wrapping her arms around me. She rubbed her cheek against my chest. The top of her head brushed against my chin, tickling it with her hair. I put my arms around her and raked my fingers through her curls. I invited her to my lair through a whisper, "Come, let us get more comfortable in my lair."

"_Home_," She corrected. "Lair doesn't seem very appropriate... you're not an animal."

"Of course not," I responded, sarcasm in my voice. Christine frowned but did not question me, as I took her by the hand and led her to my "home".

She sat on the bed of _her_ bedroom as I stood, towering above her. "Now, Erik," She started. "Why were you so sarcastic earlier? Why so bitter?" She asked. I ran a hand through my smooth black hair, "Well, Christine, it is difficult for me to say."

"Erik, just tell me the truth."

"Truth about what? Why I was so sarcastic when you said I was not an animal?"

She nodded and I growled, "You would not understand."

She stood and put her hands on my chest and stared into my golden eyes, and I avoided her accusing brown eyes. "Erik, please..." She begged. I sighed and began the tale of my childhood, "Well, I suppose you could say that I was treated like less than an animal. Even animals have loved ones."

I told her about my mother and about how she never gave me anything I asked for. Not a thing, except for my mask. The mask that hid my grotesque, ill-formed face that Mother so cowered from. She never even gave me a name...

I was never the type of person to ask for so much, but there were things that I did want. Love, for example. My mother never showed me any of _that_. I told her the time I ran away from my mother to live on my own at nine years old, when I went to Persia, was in a gypsy circus as the main freak show attraction, then ended up trapped in the Opera House that I now called my home. As I told my story, I had sadness and anger in my voice. Christine was sniffling and she began to cry as I told it and as she heard my voice with no hint of happiness in it.

At the end, I felt that I was going to cry, as well, but I knew if I cried, Christine would lament more so than she was now. I was sitting by her on the bed and she wrapped her arms around me and sobbed into my chest. "Oh, Erik, you have suffered so greatly! How could a God who is all good torture you so? Not even the devil himself must have gone through such torment!"

I nodded and quietly picked myself up off the bed, saying, "I apologise for making you so upset."

"It's fine, Erik."

"Well, we should celebrate your triumph this evening..."

She frowned. She must have heard that I was very unenthusiastic so she said, "I am actually quite tired. You must be too. Perhaps we should just go to sleep?"

I nodded. "If that is what you want, then." I whirled around to walk out the door, but before I took a step she stopped me. "Erik, come share this bed with me. It must be uncomfortable sleeping in that coffin." She smiled. Accusingly, I grumbled, "Christine..."

She laughed, "I'll keep my clothes on."

An awkward silence followed her comment and I broke it by muttering, "Okay."

I removed my cape and dropped it onto the floor, left my shoes by the bed and climbed into the bed next to Christine. "Are you positively sure that we should-"

"I'm sure."

"Are you sure?"

Christine sighed and I turned away from her, my cheeks a slight pink color. I shut my eyes and Christine said, "Just a moment, Erik," I opened my eyes and looked at her. She put a hand on my mask and gently pulled it off and set it aside. She whispered, "That's better," and wrapped her arms around me until we both drifted to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

Thanks for the support everybody! I hope you like this chapter, it was difficult to write, so if you don't like it... please, be kind! smile

**Chapter 16**

I continued to coach Christine but I made sure that she was at the Opera House during rehearsals. Though I do find enjoyment in tormenting the managers, I felt that Christine should rehearse on stage. I looked in on her practises from my hiding spots around the stage. I was glad to see how she has improved.

Everybody was in preparation for an upcoming opera. Christine happily accepted the role as the main character. As expected, rehearsals went very well, since there was no Carlotta ruining them with her nonsense. I decided that I wouldn't ruin them myself since they were going so well.

But I was hoping that the actual performance was going to be even better...

As usual, I requested that Box Five was to be kept empty for me, or a "misfortune beyond your imagination will occur". But the night of Christine's performance, it was not. I cursed inwardly, glaring at the man who stood, stunned by Christine. The young man was wearing an expensive suit and his hair was a light brown color, brushing at his shoulders. His eyes were wide and blue as he stared at Christine. I clenched my teeth and my fist until it bled in my leather glove. That look on his face and that fact that he was in Box Five made me sick.

I didn't want to say anything or interrupt the opera since Christine was doing so beautifully. I could tell by the sound of her voice and yes, even that expression on _his_ face. I left Box Five and watched from somewhere else, where I couldn't be noticed. Christine stood at the center of the stage, smiling out at the audience. The people in the audience also had wide grins stretching across their faces, and my lips curled into a smile, as well. Christine glanced over at Box Five as she was singing and when she noticed that thieving man in Box Five, the look on her face transformed. Her eyes widened in shock and she came to a sudden stop in her song, and eventually, the orchestra came to a stop. Monsieur Reyer panicked silently and the faces in the audiences changed. Christine peered out and saw the people. They were shocked, annoyed, angry, and disappointed... Christine tried to sing again but was at a loss of words. Every time her mouth opened, she choked. She began to shake in nervousness until she eventually ran off of the stage. People began to leave, angrier than ever. I hurried away to the mirror so I could meet Christine back in her dressing room. The managers dashed out onto the stage after the curtains closed. They apologised and said that they would postpone the opera until another day.

It didn't matter, I had to find Christine. I threw a glance at Box Five and it was empty. He must have left because of Christine's flop.

When I reached Christine's dressing room, she was sitting on a divan, staring at the lavish rug beneath her. She seemed to be deep in thought. Her head shot back up suddenly when somebody started to pound on her dressing room door. Weakly, she called, "Come in," and the managers shoved the doors open and stomped towards Christine.

As they approached her, Christine's eyes slowly fell to the floor again. Christine was silent as they yelled at her.

"Miss Daae! You ruined the entire opera tonight! Because of your performance, we had to postpone! We will have to find a _new_ star!" Firmin roared, mercilessly. Andre followed up with another harsh comment, "Thanks to your brilliant performance, everyone is demanding refunds!"

Christine answered, softly and timidly, "These things do happen..."

"And they are never to happen again!" Firmin hollered, and Andre agreed with a nod. "Yes, and we will ensure that nothing like it will ever happen again. You are no longer prima donna, Miss Daae. I am sorry, but having to refund a full house is unacceptable!"

"Monsieur, please understand--" Christine pleaded, her eyes filling with tears.

"I apologise, but this is no longer your dressing room." And with that, Firmin turned and left, with Andre close behind. Christine began to sob and she leaned her elbows on her knees and covered her face. She cried into the palms of her hands. I was angry enough as it is, but now my blood was boiling. I clenched my fists so tight that both hands were bleeding. I was ready to break the mirrors when I noticed that young man in Box Five appear at Christine's door. The man who made that misfortune beyond imagination occur. If it wasn't kept empty, I would cause it but this boy sadly beat me to it. Now everyone has to pay... except for the disappointed audience.

He opened his mouth but hesitated to speak. When he finally found his voice, he whispered "Little Lotte..." loud enough for Christine and I to hear. She looked up at him and her eyes widened in surprise, just like they did when she was on stage. Why did this boy intimidate her so? What was it about him?

She cracked a smile and licked away the tears that rolled onto her lips. "Oh, Raoul..." She responded.

"Oh, Little Lotte, how I've missed you..."

"I've missed you, as well. Oh, God... I thought I wouldn't ever see you again!"

Christine jumped onto her feet and threw herself at Raoul, embracing him. She sobbed into his shoulder, but she was smiling. Raoul hugged her back and ran his fingers through her beautiful hair, something that I often do as a sign of affection... He spoke, "Well, I am here now. And I will be here at the Opera House very often! I am the patron, after all."

Christine giggled and Raoul pushed her away. He grabbed her chin and had her look into his blue eyes. She turned red and he questioned, softly, "So what happened this evening? You were doing beautifully... why did you stop?"

She avoided his eyes as she answered, "Well... I suppose I choked up when I saw you."

"Really?" He let go of her chin, chuckling and so did she, stuffing a curl behind her ear.

They both stopped and stared at each other, silently. They both seemed so awkward. Raoul turned around and I was glad that he was leaving, but he actually shut the door and locked it. "Christine, you do know the reason I came isn't just to see the opera," He said. She eyed him, nervously, "Oh?"

He kissed her passionately and her eyes were wide with shock. I was about to interrupt, assuming that she wasn't enjoying it and thoroughly disgusted that this fop would even dare to touch her, but then I noticed that she shut her eyes and kissed back. I hesitated to move, feeling so overwhelmed.

Then I realised what was happening; Christine lied to, deceived, denied, rejected, left me! I felt like my heart exploded... not only did it break, it blew into countless pieces!

'There is nothing more important than you, Erik!' She said. But it was a lie. Every single time she said she loved me was a lie. Why would Christine do this to me? I wanted to make her pay... regret what she had done... but I couldn't hurt her! I could never hurt her! I love her! Raoul would be the one to pay!

My anger and hurt was unbearable so I couldn't stay in my hiding spot. I violently slid the mirror out of my way, and it shattered. Christine and Raoul broke free of their kiss and Christine, who was very out of breath, exclaimed, "Erik?" She gasped for air, and also, like she was surprised to see me here.

"Who's Erik?" Raoul wondered aloud. I walked over, my eyes were tight, gold slits, staring at him. His eyes narrowed at me. "I am Erik."

I wasn't going to hurt Raoul yet, so I kept my temper but my anger burned in my eyes. I couldn't hurt Raoul with Christine so close to him. In my angry haze, I could throw a lasso around Christine and not even realise it. So I smirked menacingly at him, pacing around him in a circle. He drew back, gulping, but he quickly recoiled. He threatened, "..Get the hell away. Why are you in Christine's dressing room... behind her mirror?"

"It is no business of yours, boy. Take your damned hands off of Christine, and _get the hell away_." I mocked him and he growled, pulling Christine close to him. "Never! Go away before I get the police!"

"Is that the best you can do, boy? Now, let go of Christine or I will make you," I reached my hand into my cloak and yanked out a rope. I couldn't wait any longer. It was already tied into my infamous punjab lasso and his grip on Christine tightened and she flinched. He couldn't find anything to say. I inched closer and closer, until eventually, "I will not let go! She is my fiancee!" He yelled, stopping me in my tracks.

"'Fiancee?'" Christine and I repeated in unison. Raoul's eyes wandered, in embarrassment, "Well, I was hoping you would be. That was partly the reason I came here. I was going to ask if you would marry me, Christine! I tried to fall in love with other women, but you were the only one whom I truly loved!" Raoul reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a ring, "Christine..." He murmured, staring down at it.

I faltered and looked at them both. Christine panicked because she knew that if she said something wrong, Raoul could be suffocated by my lasso. "Raoul, this is too soon! We haven't seen each other in years and you decide suddenly that you want to marry me? I-I can't!"

I kept quiet as long as I possibly could. I exploded and threw the rope around Raoul and he gasped. Christine ran backwards to save herself, just in case the rope was in her direction. She backed up until she hit the wall where she watched us, fearfully. I knocked Raoul to the ground and I towered above him as his eyes filled with tears of fright. I tightened the rope around his neck and he began to choke. "How dare you try to take Christine from me?" He kicked and fussed as he tried to take the lasso from his neck. Christine cried, "Erik, please do not kill him!"

But I kept pulling until he was quiet and Christine pushed me out of the way and stared at Raoul, who lay on the ground, motionlessly. "Erik! Why did you kill him? He did nothing wrong! All he did was love me!"

I tossed the rope onto Raoul and spat, "I didn't, but he will be out for days. Oh, Christine... I'm not losing you again!"

Christine hesitated, "Erik, I'll always love you... but could you loosen the rope, Erik? Please..."

I rolled my eyes and did exactly that then I started back down to my home. "There. Now you can go nurse your lover back to health." She glanced at Raoul then at me. "'Lover'? Erik, just a moment!" She followed and cut her foot on the glass shards on the ground, then winced in pain. "Erik, I'm coming with you!" Her bleeding foot couldn't compare to my broken heart, I didn't care if she was in pain. She limped over to me, her eyelid twitching as she stepped on her cut foot, "Erik, please! I am sorry you saw Raoul and I kissing! And I'm sorry that I ruined everything... after all you've taught me, too! Please, Erik! I love you!"

I continued to travel to the underground lake, wordlessly, and Christine lagged behind. She grunted every now and then because of the pain in her foot. I pushed the boat into the water and stepped into it. "Erik, wait! Please, listen to me!"

I didn't turn to face her, but I reached my hand out and she gladly took it and pulled herself into the boat. I rowed and I never looked down at her.

When I went to help her out of the boat, then she saw my face. My cheeks were wet with tears and I wasn't looking at her. She began to sniffle, "Erik, I'm so sorry..."

I slowly turned to face her and her cheeks were already moist with tears. "I am sure you meant no harm. Come, you're leaving a puddle of blood in my boat." I allowed her to step out of the boat. She began to walk towards the bedroom and I stopped her, "You shouldn't be walking on that, Christine. You will just agitate the wound." I scooped her up in my arms and brought her to the bedroom. On the way, she asked me, "Are you angry at me?"  
"I suppose."

She sighed and I smiled down at her, "But I will forgive you... if you tell me what that fop has to do with you and that you _will_ stay away from him."

"Oh, Erik, I cannot stay away from Raoul!"

"Why not?"  
"He is a friend of mine..."

"Do you kiss all of your friends that way? Because I surely have not seen you and Meg greet each other in such a fashion." I said, sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, Erik. But Raoul and I were childhood sweethearts."

I froze. "So you kissed him... because you love him."


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thank you all for the continuous support! I'm glad you all enjoy my story, and I apologise for such the wait on this chapter, but I've been busy with many things. So, here it is... Chapter 17!

**Chapter 17**

I went and laid her on the bed. She sighed, "That's ridiculous. You know very well who I love, Erik."

I hesitated to answer, as I approached her with bandages to wrap around the wound. I knelt down by the bed to patch up her cut on her foot. Finally, I said, "I assumed that I knew who you loved, Christine, and I thought it was me. But now, I haven't a clue." As I was bandaging her foot, she winced at my touch. She remained quiet, but the look in her eyes said that I had hurt her. I quickly let go and apologised, "I am so sorry, Christine, I shall be more careful."

"Erik, don't go and change the subject," She demanded. I nodded and continued what I was doing. I made sure that I wouldn't hurt her again so I progressed slowly and gently and allowed her to talk. "Erik, I know that I hurt you but I really do love you."

I remained silent and she heaved another sigh, searching for something to say. After a moment of silence, she spoke up again, "I can never apologise to you enough for what has happened."

Again, I said nothing. Even after I finished bandaging Christine's cut, I said nothing. I stood and silently turned away, my back to Christine. "You have taught me so much and I have ruined everything. Please, I am willing to learn again. Please, teach me so that I can make you proud of me again!" I walked towards the door, as though I heard nothing Christine said. She began to sob, "Damn it, say something! Speak to me, Erik!" She began to speak through her crying. "My God, talk to me! Please, I love you..."

She took hold of her shoulders, crossing her arms over her chest. She embraced herself and clutched onto her shoulders tightly. Her legs were dangling over the side of the bed but she brought them up, pulling them close. She was shivering. I glanced beyond my shoulder and saw a Christine so defenseless, so vulnerable... weeping on her bed. I whirled back around and silently stepped over to Christine. She didn't move to face me, but her breasts rose and fell with each uneven breath she took. She was troubled. All of her said so.

I immediately blamed myself for her condition but then I remembered what she had done to me. What she had done was much worse than what I was doing, but I couldn't stand seeing her like this. "I am so sorry, Christine..." I muttered.

"You have nothing to apologise for."

I just shrugged, seating myself next to Christine. I placed my hand over hers, and she cringed. I took my hand back, "Christine, what is the matter with you?"

Christine apologised again and I attempted to touch Christine again and she felt uneasy underneath my fingers. I kept my hand on her cheek, despite her nervousness. I stroked it with my thumb and spoke softly, "I see, I frightened you. Christine, I just lost my temper, that's all."

"You cannot go and suffocate people when you lose you temper!" She shrieked, causing me to yank my hand away. "Erik, you are endangering yourself when you do that. People have not forgotten about the incident five years ago... and if you kill somebody else, they will be on you more so than before." Her voice faded into a low murmur, as she fell into my shoulder. She began to sob, "I wouldn't be able to stand that... what if somebody were to find you? They would take you away from me! Or they would kill you!"

I put my arms around her, embracing her. I pulled her closer to me and allowed her to cry. She nuzzled at my neck and her tears wet my collar and my shoulder. I felt her wet tears at my neck as my collar soaked them up. I peered down at her. Her eyes were half-open as she wept. The whites of her eyes have turned a pinkish red from her crying, while the rest of her face has lost its color. She was pale as a ghost. She was so frightened as she thought about what might happen to me. I took hold of her shoulders and pulled her off, "That is enough, Christine."

Her eyes gave me a questioning gaze and I reassured her. "You have nothing to worry about."

She wasn't convinced and she responded, worriedly, "But what will people say about the broken mirror in my dressing room? And what of Raoul? When Raoul wakes, what shall happen to you?"

"I shall take care of it now. I assume you are extremely exhausted over all that has happened today. I shall be back soon."

Christine sat on her bed, deep in thought. So many things filled her mind... what had happened that night, her slip up, Erik, and even, Raoul de Chagny. She lay her head on the soft velvet pillows of her bed, her brown curls flowing over it. 'I am glad that Erik is not upset... but what am I to do? I _lied_ to him...' She thought to herself. 'I told Erik that I love him. There is no doubt of that, but Raoul...' She smiled and touched her lips with her fingers. She whispered Raoul's name aloud as she remembered their kiss. She giggled to herself.

"What is so funny?" Christine gasped as she turned to face me. I threw my cape to the ground and approached her. As I towered above her, she cringed a bit. "Why did you laugh like that? What are you thinking, Christine?"

She looked off to the side, "Oh," she muttered. "it's nothing..."

"Nonsense." I glared at her and her eyes wandered nervously, but they never met mine, "You will tell me what is wrong."

"There is nothing wrong!" Christine exclaimed. "Erik, I promise you that there is nothing the matter."

I scowled and rampaged around the room, knocking things off shelves and furniture on the ground. "I have had enough of your lying, Christine! I can see it in your eyes. You are not looking at me. You are hiding something! I was hoping you would tell me what it was, but no. You continue to lie to me! Go on! Go back to your lover! I know that is what you want!" I hollered.

Christine pushed herself off her bed and threw herself into me, embracing me with all she had. She had a tight hold around me but I fussed till I freed myself. "Erik, stop it! I love you, I love you!" She shouted. I shoved her onto the ground and she landed with a thud. Landing on her wounded foot, she let out a pained cry. Tears filled her eyes as she spoke, "Erik, what happened to you? You were not like this a few minutes ago."

"'Minutes ago'? I was gone much longer than that, Christine! You were so preoccupied as you thought about the patron... you did not even realise how long I was gone!"

She stared into my eyes. Hers were filled with fear and pain and the look she gave me told me what she saw in my own eyes. Torment, anger, and sadness... I turned away so she couldn't stare into them anymore. She was sobbing softly as I began to walk away. "Erik, where are you going?"

"I am going nowhere."

"Then let me come with you."

"I said I was not going anywhere. And as I said earlier, you will agitate your wound."

She was going to argue but she decided not to. I felt her watching me. I didn't face her when I said, "Don't worry about your Raoul. He is fine."

"Erik, what about--"

Before she could finish speaking, I left her to her own thoughts.

I glanced down at my miserable face, reflected in the water of the underground lake. My own golden eyes stared at me, so full of sorrow. I noticed my reflection became disturbed by the rippling water. The lake was still, but not my reflection. Then I realized that I was crying. I wiped my eyes, just to have them fill with tears again. How sad for me. A grown man, crying like a helpless and lonely child. I felt so abandoned. I knew that no matter what Christine had told me, she still has her mind on the boy. She must love him, despite what she tells me.

And I know that there is a part of her that loves me, as well... but I don't want to share her. Especially with somebody that can have anything he wants... he doesn't dwell in darkness and solitude like I do. He must have something... if Christine loved him so much.

I screamed, yanking away at my hair with my hands, angrily. "Damn it straight to hell!"

"What is the matter, Erik?" It was Christine's voice. I didn't bother to face her.

"I'm fine. Go back to your bedroom." I demanded.

"Erik, stop avoiding me."

"Then you stop avoiding the truth. You love Raoul."

"Erik..." Christine whined and I scowled. She finally gave in and admitted, "Okay, I love you, Erik, but I love Raoul, too."

I looked up at her and her eyes widened at the sight of my devastated face. Her expression softened as she knelt down by me, placing a hand on my cheek. I said, "But if Raoul never came, you would love me. Couldn't we pretend that Raoul isn't around?" I sounded like a child, but I didn't care. There was nothing I cared about but Christine, especially now. This may seem even more juvenile, but I would hate to share her with anybody. Christine laughed. It was a heavenly noise. It made me a crack a sneer, but it wasn't enough to put me out of my bad mood. She replied, "You cannot force yourself to forget a person."

I heaved a long, painful sigh. "Of course you can... maybe if--"

"Erik, please be reasonable. I cannot forget Raoul, not just like that. Don't worry, I will figure all of this out."

I huffed and dismissed Christine with a wave of the hand. Christine heaved a long sigh. She did as I instructed and dragged herself to her bedroom. When she vanished into her room, I sat by the lake, crying silently. I wanted to lose my temper and break things, but I didn't want Christine to come back to check up on me. I didn't want to face her, I just couldn't. Suddenly, I felt ashamed of myself as I stared at my reflection. I shut my eyes, not being able to stand looking at myself, either, and pounded on the ground with my fists. I removed my gloves from my hand and there were blood-stained. Some of the blood had dried and turned brown, but my hands were covered. I shook my glove and a few drops trickled down the leather and splashed on the ground. I grinned at the sight and I slammed my fists into the ground again. It cut through my skin and more blood leaked out.

A chilling grin stretched at my cheeks. I pounded my fists into the ground again and again. Suddenly, I heard Christine call my name. I glanced down at my bloody, cut up hands. Without thinking, I wiped my hands on my white shirt and jumped up off of the ground and went to meet her call. I stepped into the room and she was smiling, until she noticed the red on my shirt and hands. She gasped, "Erik, what have you done to yourself?

I ignored her worrisome cry and walked over to her and knelt. "What have you called me for, Christine?" I grinned, taking her hand in mine. She shuddered and I showed her my saddest face, "What is wrong? Are you afraid of me?"

Christine shook her head. "No..." With that, she took my hand with both of hers and massaged it underneath her soft fingertips. She looked into my eyes and I turned away. I said that I didn't want to face her, and yet, here I was. I couldn't ignore Christine. "Erik, tell me why you did this to yourself."

My eyes filled with tears and I began to sob. My entire body shook and I tried to huddle into a ball. I sat and then took my knees to my chest, embracing them with one arm since Christine had the other. "Because..." I mumbled. "Because... you don't love me..."

Christine's eyes were wet with tears at what I had just said. "Erik, no, I do love you."

I didn't listen. I repeated, "You don't love me... you don't love me... you don't love me..." quietly. I was driving myself insane, but I didn't stop.

"You don't love me... you don't love me... you don't love me... you don't love me..."


End file.
